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4 


Ill 


I 


Jp;iP1ir.T  ^  AM  IL<0>  TAT!  K  IP  .LACE 


HOMES 

OF 

AMERICAN  STATESMEN: 

WITH 


BY  YAEIOUS  WRITERS. 


ILLUSTRATED   WITH   ENGRAVINGS    ON    WOOD,    FROM   DRAWINGS   BY  DOPLER 
AND  daguerreotypes:   AND  FAC-SIMILES  OF  AUTOGRAPH  LETTERS. 


NEW-YORK : 
G.  P.  PUTNAM  AND   CO.,   10  PARK  PLACE. 
LONDON":  SAMPSON  LOW,  SON  AND  CO. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1353.  by 

G.  P.  PUTNAM  AND  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern  District  of 

New-York. 


John  F.  Teow, 
Printer  &  Stereotyper, 
49  Ann-street. 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTICE. 


We  need  hardly  commend  to  the  American  public 
this  attempt  to  describe  and  familiarize  the  habitual 
dwelling-places  of  some  of  the  more  eminent  of  our 
Statesmen.  In  bringing  together  such  particulars  as 
we  could  gather,  of  the  homes  of  the  men  to  whom 
we  owe  our  own,  we  feel  that  we  have  performed  an 
acceptable  and  not  unnecessary  service.  The  genera- 
tion who  were  too  well  acquainted  with  these  intimate 
personal  circumstances  to  think  of  recording  them,  is 
fast  passing  away ;  and  their  successors,  while  acknow- 
ledging a  vast  debt  of  gratitude,  might  still  forget  to 
preserve  and  cherish  the  individual  and  private  me- 
mories of  the  benefactors  of  our  country  and  race. 
We  therefore  present  our  contribution  to  the  national 
annals  with  confidence,  hoping  that  in  all  respects  the 
present  volume  will  be  found  no  unworthy  or  unwel- 
come successor  of  the  "Homes  of  American  Authors." 


IV 


publishers'  notice. 


Dr.  R.  W.  Griswold  having  been  prevented  by  ill 
health  from  contributing  an  original  paper  on  Mar- 
shall, Ave  have  availed  ourselves,  with  his  kind  permis- 
sion, of  the  sketch  which  he  prepared  for  the  "Prose 
Writers  of  America."  All  the  other  papers  in  the  pre- 
sent volume  have  been  written  expressly  for  it :  and 
the  best  acknowledgments  of  the  publishers  are  due 
to  the  several  contributors  for  the  zealous  interest  and 
ability  to  which  these  sketches  bear  witness. 

For  several  of  the  original  letters  which  we  have 
copied  in  facsimile,  we  are  indebted  to  the  kindness 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Sprague  of  Albany. 

Most  of  the  illustrations  in  this  volume  have  been 
engraved  from  original  drawings,  or  daguerreotypes 
taken  for  the  purpose.  The  frontispiece  is  somewhat 
of  a  curiosity,  each  copy  being  an  original  sun-picture 
on  paper.  The  great  luminary  has  here  entered  into 
direct  competition  with  other  artists  in  the  engraving 
business — our  readers  can  judge  how  well  he  has  suc- 
ceeded. 


CONTENTS. 


WASHINGTON  Mes.  C.  M.  Kiekland 

FRANKLIN  C.  F.  Beiggs  

JEFFERSON  Parke  Godwin  

HANCOCK  Richard  Hildeeth  

JOHN  ADAMS  Claeence  Cook  

PATRICK  HENRY  Edward  W.  Johnston 

MADISON  Edward  W.  Johnston 

JAY  William  S.  Thayer 

HAMILTON  James  C.  Carter  

MARSHALL  R,  W.  Griswold,  D.D. 

AMES  James  B.  Thayer  

JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS  David  Lee  Child  

JACKSON  Paeke  Godwin  

RUFUS  KING  Charles  King,  L.L.D. 

CLAY.  Hoeace  Greeley  

CALHOUN  Paeke  Godwin  

CLINTON.  T.  Romeyn  Beck,  M.D 

STORY  Francis  Howland.  . . . 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Pagb 

Hancock  House,  Boston  :  An  original  Crystallotype  or  Sun 

PICTURE   Frontispiece. 

Birth-place  of  Henry  Clay   Title-page. 

Site  of  Washington's  Birth-place   8 

Houdon's  Statue  of  Washington   8 

Chantrey's  Statue  of  Washington   10 

Greenough's  Statue  of  Washington   10 

Residence  of  the  Washington  Family   13 

Mount  Vernon   16 

Tomb  of  Washington's  Mother   19 

Washington's  Head  Quarters,  Cambridge,  1775   23 

"              "           "        Pearl-street,   New- York,   1776.  25 

House  No.  1  Broadway,  New- York   35 

Washington's  Head  Quarters,  Morristown,  N.  J.,  1779   28 

"              «           "         Chad's  Ford,  1777   32 

"              "           "         White  Marsh,  1777   33 

"              "           "         Valley  Forge,  1777   34 

"             "          u         Tappan,  1778   37 

"              "           "         Rocky  Hill,  N.  J.,  1783   45 

Mount  Vernon,  rear  yiew   49 

House  of  the  first  Presidential  Levee,  Cherry-street,  New-York.  52 

Washington's  Tomb   60 

Old  South  Church,  Boston   69 

Grave  of  Franklin,  Philadelphia   74 

Franklin's  monument,  Boston   76 


vili  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page 

Monticello,  Jefferson's  residence   79 

Hancock  House,  Boston,   97 

Residence  of  the  Adams  Family,  Quincv,  Mass   125 

Residence  of  Patrick  Henry,  Ya   153 

Old  Church  at  Richmond,  Va   164 

Old  Court  House,  Va   178 

Montpelier,  Madison's  residence   181 

Jay's  residence,  Bedford,  1ST.  Y   199 

Ball  Hughes'  statue  of  Hamilton   233 

Hamilton's  residence,  near  Manhattanville,  N".  Y   243 

Monument  to  Hamilton,  Trinity  Church-yard,  N".  Y   260 

Marshall's  nousE  at  Richmond,  Ya   263 

BlRTn-PLACE  OF  JOHN  QuiNCY  ADAMS   301 

Hermitage,  residence  of  Jackson   341 

Rufus  King's  nousE,  near  Jamaica,  L.  1   355 

Ashland,  residence  of  Henry  Clay   371 

Clay's  birth-place   394 

Clinton's  residence,  Maspeth,  L.  1   415 

H.  K.  Brown's  Statue  of  Clinton   424 

Story's  house  at  Cambridge,  Mass   427 

"Wheaton's  residence  near  Copenhagen   449 


jfar-siiniUs  nf  Irtta. 


Wheaton. 


r. 


Site  of  Washington':)  Birthplace. 


WASHINGTON. 

1732—1799. 

see  great  men  at  home  is  often  more  pleasant  to  the 
visitor  than  advantageous  to  the  hero.  Men's  lives  are 
two-fold,  and  the  life  of  habit  and  instinct  is  not  often,  on 
superficial  view,  strictly  consistent  with  the  other — the  more 
deliberate,  intentional  and  principled  one,  which  taxes  only 
the  higher  powers.  Yet,  perhaps,  if  our  rules  of  judgment 
were  more  humane  and  more  sincere,  we  should  find  less  dis- 
crepancy than  it  has  been  usual  to  imagine,  and  what  there  is 
would  be  more  indulgently  accounted  for.    The  most  common- 


4  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

place  man  has  an  inner  and  an  outer  life,  which,  if  displayed 
separately,  might  never  be  expected  to  belong  to  the  same 
individual  ;  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  introduce 
his  dearest  friend  into  the  sanctum,  where,  as  in  a  spiritual 
laboratory,  his  words  and  actions  originate  and  are  prepared 
for  use.  Yet  we  could  accuse  him  of  no  hypocrisy  on  this 
ground.  The  thing  is  so  because  Nature  says  it  should  be  so, 
and  we  must  be  content  with  her  truth  and  harmony,  even  if 
they  be  not  ours.  So  with  regard  to  public  and  domestic  life. 
If  we  pursue  our  hero  to  his  home,  it  should  be  in  a  home- 
spirit — a  spirit  of  affection,  not  of  impertinent  intrusion  or 
ungenerous  cavil.  If  we  lift  the  purple  curtains  of  the  tent  in 
which  our  weary  knight  reposes,  when  he  has  laid  aside  his 
heavy  armor  and  put  on  his  gown  of  ease,  it  is  not  as  malicious 
servants  may  pry  into  the  privacy  of  their  superiors,  but  as 
friends  love  to  penetrate  the  charmed  circle  within  which  dis- 
guises and  defences  are  not  needed,  and  personal  interest  may 
properly  take  the  place  of  distant  admiration  and  respect. 
In  no  other  temper  is  it  lawful,  or  even  decent,  to  follow  the 
great  actors  on  life's  stage  to  their  retirement ;  and  if  they  be 
benefactors,  the  greater  the  shame  if  we  coolly  criticize  what 
was  never  meant  for  any  but  loving  eyes. 

The  private  life  of  him  who  is  supereminently  the  hero  of 
every  true  American  heart,  is  happily  sacred  from  disrespectful 
scrutiny,  but  less  happily  closed  to  the  devout  approach  of 
those  who  would  look  upon  it  with  more  than  filial  reverence. 
This  is  less  remarkable  than  it  may  at  first  sight  appear  to  us 
who  know  his  merit.  The  George  Washington  of  early  times 
was  a  splendid  youth,  but  his  modesty  was  equal  to  his  other 
great  qualities,  and  his  neighbors  could  not  be  expected  to 


WASHINGTON. 


5 


foresee  the  noon  of  such  a  morning.  And  when  the  first  stir- 
ring time  was  over,  and  the  young  soldier  settled  himself 
quietly  at  Mount  Vernon,  as  a  country  gentleman,  a  member 
of  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  a  vigorous  farmer  and 
tobacco  planter,  a  churchwarden  in  two  parishes,  and  a  staid 
married  man  with  two  step-children,  to  whom  he  was  an  active 
and  faithful  guardian,  no  one  thought  of  recording  his  life  and 
doings,  any  more  than  those  of  his  brother  planters  on  the 
Potomac,  all  landed  men,  deer  and  fox-hunters  and  zealous 
fishermen,  who  visited  each  other  in  the  hospitable  Southern 
fashion,  and  lived  in  rustic  luxury,  very  much  within  them- 
selves. Few,  indeed,  compared  with  the  longings  of  our  ad- 
miration, are  the  particulars  that  have  come  down  to  us  of 
Washington's  Home — the  home  of  his  natural  affections  ;  but 
he  had  many  homes  of  duty,  and  these  the  annals  of  his 
country  will  ever  keep  in  grateful  memory.  Through  these 
our  present  design  is  to  trace  his  career,  succinctly  and  imper- 
fectly indeed,  and  with  the  diffidence  which  a  character  so 
august  naturally  inspires.  Happily,  many  deficiencies  in  our 
sketch  will  be  supplied  by  the  intimate  knowledge  and  the 
inborn  reverence  of  a  large  proportion  of  our  readers. 

It  seems  to  be  a  conceded  point  that  ours  is  not  the  age  of 
reverence,  nor  our  country  its  home.  While  the  masses  were 
nothing  and  individuals  every  thing,  gods  or  demigods  were 
the  natural  product  of  every  public  emergency  and  relief. 
Mankind  in  general,  ignorant,  and  of  course  indolent,  only  too 
happy  to  be  spared  the  labor  of  thought  and  the  responsibility 
of  action,  looked  up  to  the  great  and  the  fortunate  till  their 
eyes  were  dazzled,  and  they  saw  characters  and  exploits 
through  a  glorious  golden  mist,  which  precluded  criticism.  It 


6 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


was  easy,  then,  to  be  a  hero,  for  a  single  success  or  a  happy- 
chance  sufficed.  Altars  sprang  up  in  every  bye-road,  and 
incense  fumed  without  stint  or  question. 

To-day  the  case  is  widely  different.  We  give  nothing  for 
nothing.  Whatever  esteem  or  praise  we  accord,  must  be  jus- 
tified, inch  by  inch,  by  facts  tangible  and  productive,  successes 
undimmed  by  any  after  failure,  and  qualities  which  owe 
nothing  to  imagination  or  passion  in  the  observer.  No 
aureole  is  allowed  about  any  head  unless  it  emanate  from  it. 
Our  Apollo  must  actually  have  sent  the  shaft,  and  to  the 
mark,  too,  or  we  sneer  at  the  attitude  of  triumph.  If  we 
erect  a  statue,  no  robe  is  confessed  to  be  proper  drapery  but 
the  soiled  and  threadbare  one  of  every-day  life  and  toil.  No 
illusion — no  poetry  !  is  the  American  maxim  of  our  time. 
Bald,  staring,  naked  literality  for  us  !  He  is  the  true  philo- 
sopher who  can 

Peep  and  botanize 
Upon  his  mother's  grave 

if  the  flowers  required  by  science  happen  to  grow  there. 

All  this  may  be  very  wise  and  knowing,  yet  as  long  as  the 
machine  called  man  has  something  within  it  which  is  not  ex- 
actly a  subject  for  mathematical  measurement,  there  will 
remain  some  little  doubt  of  the  expediency  of  thus  stripping 
life  of  its  poetry,  and  bringing  all  that  is  inspiring  to  the  test 
of  line  and  plummet.  Just  now,  however,  there  is  no  hearing 
for  any  argument  on  this  side. 

What  shall  we  think,  then,  of  a  character  which,  in  a 
single  half  century,  has  begun,  even  among  us,  to  wear  some- 
thing of  a  mythical  splendor  ?    What  must  the  man  have 


Graenoujb's  Statue  of  Washington 


WASHINGTON. 


7 


been,  whom  an  age  like  this  deliberately  deifies  ?  Who  but 
Washington  has,  in  any  age,  secured  for  himself  such  a  r>lace 
in  the  universal  esteem  and  reverence  of  his  countrymen,  that 
simple  description  of  him  is  all  that  can  be  tolerated,  the  pub- 
lic sense  of  his  merits  being  such  as  makes  praise  impertinent, 
and  blame  impious  ? 

Washington  !  It  were  almost  enough  to  grace  our  page 
and  our  volume  with  this  honored  and  beloved  name.  The 
commentary  upon  it  is  written  in  every  heart.  It  is  true  the 
most  anxious  curiosity  has  been  able  to  find  but  a  small  part 
of  what  it  would  fain  know  of  the  first  man  of  all  the  earth, 
yet  no  doubt  remains  as  to  what  he  was,  in  every  relation  of 
life.  The  minutiae  may  not  be  full,  but  the  outline,  in  which 
resides  the  expression,  is  perfect.  It  were  too  curious  to  in- 
quire how  much  of  Washington  would  have  been  lost  had  the 
rural  life  of  which  he  was  so  fond,  bounded  his  field  of  action. 
Providence  made  the  stage  ready  for  the  performer,  as  the 
performer  for  the  stage.  In  his  public  character,  he  was  hot 
the  man  of  the  time,  but-  for  the  time,  bearing  in  his  very 
looks  the  seal  of  a  grand  mission,  and  seeming,  from  his  sur- 
prising dignity,  to  have  no  private  domestic  side.  Greenough's 
marble  statue  of  him,  that  sits  unmoved  under  all  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  storm  and  calm,  gazing  with  unwinking  eyes  at  the 
Capitol,  is  not  more  impassive  or  immovable  than  the  Wash- 
ington of  our  imaginations.  Yet  we  know  there  must  have 
been  another  side  to  this  grand  figure,  less  grand,  perhaps,  but 
not  less  symmetrical,  and  wonderfully  free  from  those  lowering 
discrepancies  which  bring  nearer  to  our  own  level  all  other 
great,  conspicuous  men.  We  ought  to  know  more  of  him  ; 
but,  besides  the  other  reasons  we  have  alluded  to  for  our 


8 


HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


Eoudon's  Statue, 


dearth  of  intelligence,  his  was  not  a  writing  age  on  this  side 
the  water.  Doing,  not  describing,  was  the  business  of  the 
day.  "  Our  own  correspondent"  was  not  born  yet ;  desperate 
tourists  had  not  yet  forced  their  way  into  gentlemen's  drawing- 
rooms,  to  steal  portraits  by  pen  and  pencil,  to  inquire  into 
dates  and  antecedents,  and  repay  enforced  hospitality  by  hold- 
ing the  most  sacred  personalities  up  to  the  comments  of  the 
curious.  It  would,  indeed,  be  delightful  to  possess  this  kind 
of  knowledge  ;  to  ascertain  how  George  Washington  of  Fair- 


WASHINGTON. 


9 


fax  appeared  to  the  sturdy  country  gentlemen,  his  neighbors  ; 
what  the  "troublesome  man"  he  speaks  of  in  one  of  his  letters 
thought  of  the  rich  planter  he  was  annoying ;  whether  Mr.  Payne 
was  proud  or  ashamed  when  he  remembered  that  he  had  knock- 
ed down  the  Father  of  his  Country  in  a  public  court-room  ; 
what  amount  of  influence,  not  to  say  rule,  Mrs.  Martha  Custis, 
with  her  large  fortune,  exercised  over  the  Commander-in-chief 
of  the  armies  of  the  United  States.  But  rarer  than  all  it  would 
have  been  to  see  Washington  himself  deal  with  one  of  those 
gentry,  who  should  have  called  at  Mount  Vernon  with  a  view 
of  favoring  the  world  with  such  particulars.  How  he  treated 
poachers  of  another  sort  we  know  ;  he  mounted  his  horse,  and 
dashing  into  the  water,  rode  directly  up  to  the  muzzle  of  a 
loaded  musket,  which  he  wrenched  from  the  astounded  in- 
truder, and  then,  drawing  the  canoe  to  land,  belabored  the 
scamp  soundly  with  his  riding  whip.  How  he  would  have 
faced  a  loaded  pen,  and  received  its  owner,  we  can  but  conjec- 
ture. We  have  heard  an  old  gentleman,  who  had  lived  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Mount  Yernon  in  his  boyhood,  say  that  when 
the  General  found  any  stranger  shooting  in  his  grounds,  his 
practice  was  to  take  the  gun  without  a  word,  and,  passing 
the  barrel  through  the  fence,  with  one  effort  of  his  powerful 
arm,  bend  it  so  as  to  render  it  useless,  returning  it  afterwards 
very  quietly,  perhaps  observing  that  his  rules  were  very  well 
known.  The  whole  neighborhood,  our  old  friend  said,  feared 
the  General,  not  because  of  any  caprice  or  injustice  in  his 
character,  but  only  for  his  inflexibility,  which  must  have  had 
its  own  trials  on  a  Southern  plantation  at  that  early  day. 

Painting  and  sculpture  have  done  what  they  could  to  give 
us  an  accurate  and  satisfying  idea  of  the  outward  appearance 


10  HOMES     OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


Chatrtrey's  Statue 

of  the  Father  of  our  Country,  and  a  surpassing  dignity  has 
been  the  aim  if  not  the  result,  of  all  these  efforts.  The  statue 
by  Chantrey,  which  graces  the  State  House  at  Boston,  is  per- 
Hiaps  as  successful  as  any  in  this  respect,  and  white  marble  is 
of  all  substances  the  most  appropriate  for  the  purpose.  From 
all,  collectively,  we  derive  the  impression,  or  something  more, 
that  in  Washington  we  have  one  of  the  few  examples  on 
record  of  a  complete  and  splendid  union  and  consent  of  per- 
sonal and  mental  qualifications  for  greatness  in  the  same 


WASHINGTON. 


11 


individual ;  unsurpassed  symmetry  and  amplitude  of  mind 
and  body  for  once  contributing  to  the  efficiency  of  a  single 
being,  to  whom,  also,  opportunities  for  development  and  action 
proved  no  less  propitious  than  nature.  In  the  birth,  nurture 
and  destiny  of  this  man,  so  blest  in  all  good  gifts,  Providence 
seems  to  have  intended  the  realization  of  Milton's  ideal  type 
of  glorious  manhood  : 

A  creature  who,  endued 
With  sanctity  of  reason,  might  erect 
His  stature,  and,  upright^  with  front  serene, 
Govern  the  rest,  self-knowing ;  and  from  thence, 
Magnanimous,  to  correspond  with  Heaven ; 
But,  grateful  to  acknowledge  whence  his  good 
Descends,  thither,  with  heart  and  voice  and  eyes, 
Directed  in  devotion,  to  adore 
And  worship  God  supreme,  who  made  him  chief 
Of  all  his  works. 

We  may  the  more  naturally  think  this  because  Washing- 
ton was  so  little  indebted  to  school  learning  for  his  mental 
power.  Born  in  a  plain  farm-house  near  the  Potomac — a  hal- 
lowed spot  now  marked  only  by  a  memorial  stone  and  a  clump 
of  decaying  fig-trees,  probably  coeval  with  the  dwelling  ; 
none  but  the  simplest  elements  of  knowledge  were  within  his 
reach,  for  although  his  father  was  a  gentleman  of  large  landed 
estate,  the  country  was  thinly  settled  and  means  of  education 
were  few.  To  these  he  applied  himself  with  a  force  and 
steadiness  even  then  remarkable,  though  with  no  view  more 
ambitious  than  to  prepare  himself  for  the  agricultural  pursuits 
to  which  he  was  destined,  by  a  widowed  mother,  eminent  for 
common  sense  and  high  integrity.    His  mother,  characteris- 


12 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


tically  enough,  for  she  was  much  more  practical  than  imagin- 
ative, always  spoke  of  him  as  a  docile  and  diligent  boy,  pas- 
sionately fond  of  athletic  exercises,  rather  than  as  a  brilliant 
or  ambitious  one.  In  after  years,  when  La  Fayette  was  re- 
counting to  her,  in  florid  phrase,  but  with  the  generous 
enthusiasm  which  did  him  so  much  honor,  the  glorious  services 
and  successes  of  her  son,  she  replied — "  I  am  not  surprised  ; 
George  was  always  a  good  boy  ! "  and  this  simple  phrase  from 
a  mother  who  never  uttered  a  superfluous  word,  throws  a  clear 
light  on  his  early  history.  Then  we  have,  besides,  remnants 
of  his  school-exercises  in  arithmetic  and  geometry,  beautiful  in 
neatness,  accuracy  and  method.  At  thirteen  his  mathemati- 
cal turn  had  begun  to  discover  itself,  and  the  precision  and 
elegance  of  his  handwriting  were  already  remarkable.  His 
precocious  wisdom  would  seem  at  that  early  age  to  have  cast 
its  horoscope,  for  we  have  thirty  pages  of  forms  for  the  trans- 
action of  important  business,  all  copied  out  beautifully  ;  and 
joined  to  this  direct  preparation  for  his  future  career  are 
"  Rules  of  Civility  and  Decent  Behaviour  in  Company  and 
Conversation,"  to  the  number  of  one  hundred  and  ten,  all 
pointing  distinctly  at  self-control  and  respect  for  the  rights  of 
others,  rather  than  at  a  Chest erfleldian  polish  or  policy,  and 
these  he  learned  so  well  that  he  practised  them  unfailingly  all 
his  life  after.  A  farm  in  Stafford  County  on  the  Rappahannoc, 
where  his  father  had  lived  for  several  years  before  his  death, 
was  his  share  of  the  paternal  estate,  and  on  this  he  lived  with 
his  mother,  till  he  had  completed  his  sixteenth  year.  He  de- 
sired to  enter  the  British  Navy,  as  a  path  to  honorable  distinc- 
tion, and  one  of  his  half  brothers,  many  years  older  than  him- 
self, had  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  warrant  for  him  ;  but  the 


WASHINGTON. 


13 


Residence  of  the  Washington  Family. 


mother's  reluctance  to  part  with  her  eldest  boy  induced  him  to 
relinquish  this  advantage,  and  to  embrace  instead  the  laborious 
and  trying  life  of  a  surveyor,  in  those  rude,  early  days  of 
Virginia  exposed  to  extraordinary  hazards.  Upon  this  he 
entered  immediately,  accepting  employment  offered  him  by 
Lord  Fairfax,  who  had  come  from  England  to  ascertain  the 
value  of  an  immense  tract  of  land  which  he  had  inherited,  ly- 
ing between  the  Potomac  and  Kappahannoc  rivers,  and  extend- 
ing beyond  the  Alleghanies.  The  surveying  party  was  accom- 
panied by  William  Fairfax,  a  distant  relative  of  his  lordship, 
but  the  boy  of  sixteen  was  evidently  the  most  important 
member  of  the  party.  When  the  hardships  of  this  undertak- 
ing became  too  exhausting,  he  returned  to  the  more  settled 
regions,  and  employed  himself  in  laying  out  private  tracts  and 
farms,  but  he  spent  the  greater  part  of  three  years  in  the 


14  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

wilderness,  learning  the  value  of  lands,  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  habits  and  character  of  the  wild  Indian  tribes,  then 
so  troublesome  in  the  forests,  and  fitting  himself  by  labor, 
study,  the  endurance  of  personal  hardships  and  the  exercise 
of  vigilance  and  systematic  effort,  for  the  arduous  path  before 
him. 

At  nineteen  Washington  had  made  so  favorable  an  im- 
pression that  he  was  appointed,  by  the  government  of  Virginia, 
Adjutant-General  with  the  rank  of  Major,  and  charged  with 
the  duty  of  assembling  and  exercising  the  militia,  in  prepara- 
tion for  expected  or  present  difficulties  on  the  frontier.  He 
had  always  shown  a  turn  for  military  affairs,  beginning  with 
his  school-days,  when  his  favorite  play  was  drilling  troops  of 
boys,  he  himself  always  taking  command ;  and  noticeable 
again  in  his  early  manhood,  when  he  studied  tactics,  and 
learned  the  manual  exercise  and  the  use  of  the  sword.  It 
was  not  long  before  the  talent  tnus  cultivated  was  called  into 
action.  Governor  Dinwiddie  sent  Major  Washington  as  com- 
missioner to  confer  with  the  officer  commanding  the  French 
forces,  making  the  delicate  inquiry  by  what  authority  he  pre- 
sumed to  invade  the  dominions  of  his  Majesty  King  George 
III.,  and  what  were  his  designs.  A  winter  journey  of  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  miles,  at  least  half  of  wlrich  lay  through  an 
unbroken  wilderness,  haunted  by  wild  beasts,  and  more  for- 
midable savages,  was  the  first  duty  of  the  youthful  Major 
under  this  commission,  and  it  occupied  six  weeks,  marked  by 
many  hardships  and  some  adventures.  The  famous  one  of 
the  raft  on  a  half-frozen  river,  in  which  Washington  narrowly 
escaped  drowning,  and  the  other  of  a  malcontent  Indian's 
firing  on  him,  occurred  during  this  journey ;  but  he  reached 


WASHINGTON. 


15 


the  French  post  in  safety,  and  had  an  amicable,  though  not 
very  satisfactory  conference,  with  the  Sieur  St.  Pierre,  a  cour- 
teous gentleman,  but  a  wily  old  soldier.  Governor  Dinwiddie 
caused  Major  Washington's  account  of  the  expedition  to  be 
published,  and  when  a  little  army  was  formed  for  the  protec- 
tion of  the  frontier,  Washington  received  a  command,  with  the 
rank  of  Colonel,  at  twenty-two  years  of  age.  Advancing  at 
once  into  the  wilderness,  he  encountered  a  French  detach- 
ment, which  he  took  prisoners,  with  their  commander,  and  so 
proceeded  during  the  remainder  of  the  season,  with  general 
success.  The  next  year,  serving  as  a  volunteer,  it  was  his 
painful  lot,  when  just  recovering  from  a  severe  illness,  to  wit- 
ness Braddock's  defeat,  a  misfortune  which,  it  is  unanimously 
conceded,  might  have  been  avoided,  if  General  Braddock  had 
not  been  too  proud  to  take  his  young  friend's  prudent  counsel. 
All  that  an  almost  frantic  bravery  could  do  to  retrieve  the 
fortunes  of  this  disastrous  day,  Washington,  whom  we  are 
in  the  habit  of  thinking  immovable,  and  who  was  at  this 
time  weak  from  the  effects  of  fever,  is  reported  to  have  done  ; 
and  the  fact  that  he  had  two  horses  shot  under  him,  and  his 
coat  well  riddled  with  rifle  balls,  shows  how  unsj)armgly  he 
exposed  himself  to  the  enemy's  sharp-shooters.  A  spectator 
says — "  I  saw  him  take  hold  of  a  brass  field-piece  as  if  it  had 
been  a  stick.  He  looked  like  a  fury  ;  he  tore  the  sheet  lead 
from  the  touch-hole  ;  he  pulled  with  this  and  pushed  with 
that ;  and  wheeled  it  round  as  if  it  had  been  nothing.  The 
powder-monkey  rushed  up  with  the  fire,  and  then  the  cannon 
began  to  bark,  and  the  Indians  came  down."  Nothing  but 
defeat  and  disgrace  was  the  result  of  this  unhappy  encounter, 
except  to  Washington,  who  in  that  instance,  as  in  so  many 


16  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


others,  stood  out,  individual  and  conspicuous,  by  qualities  so 
much  in  advance  of  those  of  all  the  men  with  whom  he  acted, 
that  no  misfortune  or  disaster  ever  caused  him  to  be  con- 
founded with  them,  or  included  in  the  most  hasty  general 
censure.  It  is  most  instructive  as  well  as  interesting  to 
observe  that  his  mind,  never  considered  brilliant,  was  yet 
recognized  from  the  beginning  as  almost  infallible  in  its 
judgments,  a  tower  of  strength  for  the  weak,  a  terror  to  the 
selfish  and  dishonest.  The  uneasiness  of  Governor  Dinwiddie 
under  Washington's  superiority  is  accounted  for  only  by  the 
fact  that  that  superiority  was  unquestionable. 


WASHINGTON. 


17 


After  Braddock's  defeat,  Washington  retired  to  Mount  Ver- 
non,— which  had  fallen  to  him  by  the  will  of  his  half-brother 
Lawrence — to  recruit  in  mind  and  body,  after  a  wasting  fever 
and  the  distressing  scenes  he  had  been  forced  to  witness. 
The  country  rang  with  his  praises,  and  even  the  pulpit  could 
not  withhold  its  tribute.  The  Keverend  Samuel  Davies 
hardly  deserves  the  reputation  of  a  prophet  for  saying,  in  the 
course  of  a  eulogy  on  the  bravery  of  the  Virginian  troops, — 
"As  a  remarkable  instance  of  this,  I  may  point  out  that 
heroic  youth,  Colonel  Washington,  whom  I  cannot  but  hope 
Providence  has  hitherto  preserved  in  so  signal  a  manner  for 
some  important  service  to  his  country." 

When  another  army  was  to  be  raised  for  frontier  service, 
the  command  was  given  to  Washington,  who  stipulated  for  a 
voice  in  choosing  his  officers,  a  better  system  of  military  regu- 
lations, more  promptness  in  paying  the  troops,  and  a  thorough 
reform  in  the  system  of  procuring  supplies.  All  these  were 
granted,  with  the  addition  of  an  aid-de-camp  and  secretary,  to 
the  young  colonel  of  twenty-three.  But  he  nevertheless  had 
to  encounter  the  evils  of  insubordination,  inactivity,  perverse- 
ness  and  disunion  among  the  troops,  with  the  further  vexation 
of  deficient  support  on  the  part  of  the  government,  while  the 
terrors  and  real  dangers  and  sufferings  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  outer  settlements  wrung  his  heart  with  anguish.  In  one 
of  his  many  expostulatory  letters  to  the  timid  and  time-serving 
Governor  Dinwiddie,  his  feelings  burst  their  usual  guarded 
bounds :  "I  am  too  little  acquainted,  sir,  with  pathetic  lan- 
guage, to  attempt  a  description  of  the  people's  distresses  ;  but 
I  have  a  generous  soul,  sensible  of  wrongs  and  swelling  for 
redress.    But  what  can  I  do  ?    I  see  their  situation,  know 


18 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


their  danger  and  participate  in  their  sufferings,  without  having 
it  in  my  power  to  give  them  further  relief  than  uncertain 
promises.  In  short,  I  see  inevitable  destruction  in  so  clear  a 
light,  that  unless  vigorous  measures  are  taken  by  the  Assem- 
bly, and  speedy  assistance  sent  from  below,  the  poor  inhabit- 
ants that  are  now  in  forts  must  unavoidably  fall,  while  the 
remainder  are  flying  before  a  barbarous  foe.  In  fine,  the 
melancholy  situation  of  the  people,  the  little  prospect  of 
assistance,  the  gross  and  scandalous  abuse  cast  upon  the 
officers  in  general,  which  reflects  upon  me  in  particular  for 
suffering  misconduct  of  such  extraordinary  kinds,  and  the 
distant  prospect,  if  any,  of  gaining  honor  and  reputation  in 
the  service,  cause  me  to  lament  the  hour  that  gave  me  a 
commission,  and  would  induce  me,  at  any  other  time  than 
this  of  imminent  danger,  to  resign,  without  one  hesitating 
moment,  a  command  from  which  I  never  expect  to  reap  either 
honor  or  benefit ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  have  almost  an  abso- 
lute certainty  of  incurring  displeasure  below,  while  the  murder 
of  helpless  families  may  be  laid  to  my  account  here.  The 
supplicating  tears  of  the  women  and  moving  petitions  of  the 
men  melt  me  into  such  deadly  sorrow,  that  I  solemnly  declare, 
if  I  know  my  own  mind,  I  could  offer  myself  a  willing  sacrifice 
to  the  butchering  enemy,  provided  that  would  contribute  to 
the  people's  ease." 

This  extract  is  given  as  being  very  characteristic ;  full 
of  that  fire  whose  volcanic  intensity  was  so  carefully  covered 
under  the  snow  of  caution  in  after  life  ;  and  also  as  a  specimen 
of  Washington's  style  of  writing,  clear,  earnest,  command- 
ing and  business-like,  but  deficient  in  all  express  graces,  and 
valuable  rather  for  substance  than  form.    We  see  in  his  gen- 


1!) 


WASHINGTON. 


eral  tone  of  expression  something  of  that  resolute  mother, 
who,  when  her  son,  already  the  first  man  in  public  estimation, 
urged  her  to  make  Mount  Vernon  her  home  for  the  rest  of 


Tomb  of  Washington's  Mother. 


her  days,  tersely  replied — "  I  thank  you  for  your  affectionate 
and  dutiful  offers,  but  my  wants  are  few  in  this  world,  and  I 


20  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

feel  perfectly  competent  to  take  care  of  myself."  Directness 
is  the  leading  trait  in  the  style  of  both  mother  and  son  ;  if 
either  used  circumlocution,  it  was  rather  through  deliberate- 
ness  than  for  diplomacy.  Indeed,  the  alleged  indebtedness  of 
great  sons  to  strong  mothers,  can  hardly  find  a  more  promi- 
nent support  than  in  this  case.  What  a  Koman  pair  they 
were  !  If  her  heart  failed  her  a  little,  sometimes,  as  what 
mother's  heart  must  not,  in  view  of  toils,  sacrifices,  and  clan- 
gers like  his  ;  if  she  argued  towards  the  softer  side,  how  he 
answered  her,  appealing  to  her  stronger  self : 

Mount  Vernon,  14th  Aug.,  1755. 

"  Honored  Madam, 

"  If  it  is  in  my  power  to  avoid  going  to  the  Ohio  again,  I 
shall ;  but  if  the  command  is  passed  upon  me  by  the  general 
voice  of  the  country,  and  offered  upon  such  terms  as  cannot 
be  objected  against,  it  would  reflect  dishonor  upon  me  to 
refuse  it  ;  and  that,  I  am  sure,  must,  or  ought  to,  give  you 
greater  uneasiness  than  my  going  in  an  honorable  command. 
Upon  no  other  terms  will  I  accept  of  it.  At  present  I  have 
no  proposals  made  to  me,  nor  have  I  advice  of  such  an  inten- 
tion, except  from  private  hands. 

"  I  am,  &c." 

When  the  object  for  which  he  had  undertaken  the  cam- 
paign— viz. :  the  undisturbed  possession  of  the  Ohio  Kiver — 
was  accomplished,  Washington  resigned  his  commission,  after 
five  years  of  active  and  severe  service,  his  health  much  broken 
and  his  private  affairs  not  a  little  disordered.  The  resignation 
took  effect  in  December,  1758,  and  in  January,  1759,  he  was 
married,  and,  as  he  supposed,  finally  settled  at  Mount  Vernon 


WASHINGTON. 


21 


— or,  as  he  expresses  it  in  his  quiet  way — "  Fixed  at  this  seat, 
with  an  agreeable  partner  for  life,  I  hope  to  find  more  happi- 
ness in  retirement  than  I  ever  experienced  amidst  the  wide 
and  bustling  world."  And  in  liberal  and  elegant  improve- 
ments, and  the  exercise  of  a  generous  hospitality,  the  young 
couple  spent  the  following  fifteen  years  ;  the  husband  attend- 
ing to  his  duties  as  citizen  and  planter,  with  ample  time  and 
inclination  for  fox-hunting  and  duck-shooting,  and  the  wife,  a 
kind,  comely,  thrifty  dame,  looking  well  to  the  ways  of  her 
household,  superintending  fifteen  domestic  spinning-wheels, 
and  presiding  at  a  bountiful  table,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of 
her  husband  and  his  numerous  guests.  When  the  spirit  of 
the  people  began  to  rise  against  the  exactions  of  the  mother 
country,  Washington  was  among  the  foremost  to  sympathize 
with  the  feeling  of  indignation,  and  the  desire  to  resist,  peacea- 
bly, if  possible,  forcibly  if  necessary.  Of  this,  his  letters  afford 
ample  proof.  When  armed  resistance  was  threatened,  Wash- 
ington was  immediately  thought  of  as  the  Virginia  leader. 
When  Congress  began,  in  earnest,  preparations  for  defence, 
Washington  was  chairman  of  all  the  committees  on  the  state 
of  the  country.  When  the  very  delicate  business  of  appointing 
a  commander-in-chief  of  the  American  armies  was  under  con- 
sideration, Washington  was  the  man  whose  name  was  on  every 
tongue,  and  who  was  unanimously  chosen,  and  that  by  the 
direct  instrumentality  of  a  son  of  Massachusetts,  though  that 
noble  State,  having  commenced  the  struggle,  might  well  have 
claimed  the  honor  of  furnishing  a  leader  for  it.  What  gener- 
osity of  patriotism  there  was,  in  the  men  of  those  days,  and 
how  a  common  indignation  and  a  common  danger  seem  to 
have  raised  them  above  the  petty  jealousies  and  heart-burnings 


22 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


that  so  disfigure  public  doings  in  time  of  peace  and  prosperity  i 
How  the  greatness  of  the  great  man  blazed  forth  on  this  new 
field  !  What  an  attitude  he  took  before  the  country,  when 
he  said,  on  accepting  the  position,  "I  beg  leave  to  assure 
the  Congress  that  as  no  pecuniary  consideration  could  have 
tempted  me  to  accept  this  arduous  employment,  at  the  expense 
of  my  domestic  ease  and  happiness,  I  do  not  wish  to  make  any 
profit  from  it.  I  will  keep  an  exact  account  of  my  expenses. 
These,  I  doubt  not  they  will  discharge,  and  that  is  all  I  desire." 
There  was  a  natural,  unconscious  sovereignty  in  thus  assuming 
to  be  the  judge  of  what  it  might  be  proper  to  expend,  in  con- 
cerns the  most  momentous,  extensive,  and  novel,  as  well  as  in 
taking  the  entire  risk,  both  of  payment  and  of  public  appro- 
bation,— in  a  direction  in  which  he  had  already  found  the  sen- 
sitiveness of  the  popular  mind, — that  equals  any  boldness  of 
Napoleon's.  We  can  hardly  wonder  that,  in  after  times,  com- 
mon men  instinctively  desired  and  expected  to  make  him  a 
king. 

The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  had  taken  place  in  the  time  that 
intervened  between  Washington's  consent  and  the  receipt  of 
his  commission,  so  that  he  set  out  for  Cambridge,  with  no 
lingering  doubt  as  to  the  nature,  meaning,  or  result  of  the 
service  in  which  he  had  pledged  all.  He  writes  to  his 
brother,  "  I  am  embarked  on  a  wide  ocean,  boundless  in  its 
prospect,  and  in  which,  perhaps,  no  safe  harbor  is  to  be  found." 
His  residence  at  Cambridge,  a  fine  old  mansion,  still  stands, 
and  in  worthy  occupancy.  Here  it  was  that  he  undertook  the 
intolerable  duty  of  organizing  a  young  army,  without  clothes, 
tents,  ammunition,  or  money,  with  a  rich,  bitter  and  disci- 
plined enemy  in  sight,  and  boiling  blood  on  both  sides.  Here 


WASHINGTON. 


23 


it  was  that  General  Gage,  with  whom  he  had  fought,  side  by 
side,  twenty  years  before,  on  the  Monongahela,  so  exasperated 
him  by  insolent  replies  to  his  remonstrances  against  the  cruel 


Headquarters,  Cambridge  1775. 

treatment  of  American  prisoners,  that  he  gave  directions  for 
retaliation  upon  any  of  the  enemy  that  might  fall  into  Ameri- 
can hands.  He  was,  however,  Washington  still,  even  though 
burning  with  a  holy  anger  ;  and,  ere  the  order  cquld  reach  its 
destination,  it  was  countermanded,  and  a  charge  given  to  all 
concerned  that  the  prisoners  should  be  allowed  parole,  and  that 


24  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

every  other  proper  indulgence  and  civility  sliotdd  be  shown 
them.  His  letters  to  General  Gage  are  models  of  that  kind  of 
writing.  In  writing  to  Lord  Dartmouth  afterwards,  the  British 
commander,  who  had  been  rebuked  with  such  cutting  and  de- 
served severity,  observes  with  great  significance,  "  The  trials 
we  have  had,  show  the  rebels  are  not  the  despicable  rabble  we 
have  supposed  them  to  be." 

Washington  was  not  without  a  stern  kind  of  wit,  on  certain 
occasions.  When  the  rock  was  struck  hard,  it  failed  not  in 
fire.  The  jealousy  of  military  domination  was  so  great  as  to 
cause  Mm  terrible  solicitudes  at  this  time,  and  a  month's  en- 
listments brought  only  five  thousand  men,  while  murmurs 
were  heard  on  all  sides  against  poor  pay  and  bad  living. 
Thinking  of  this,  at  a  later  day,  when  a  member  of  the  Con- 
vention for  forming  the  Constitution,  desired  to  introduce  a 
clause  limiting  the  standing  army  to  five  thousand  men, 
Washington  observed  that  he  should  have  no  objection  to  such 
a  clause,  "  if  it  were  so  amended  as  to  provide  that  no  enemy 
should  presume  to  invade  the  United  States  with  more  than 
three  thousand." 

Amid  all  the  discouragements  of  that  heavy  time,  the  reso- 
lution of  the  commander-in-chief  suffered  no  abatement.  "  My 
situation  is  so  irksome  to  me  at  times,"  he  says  after  enumera- 
ting his  difficulties  in  a  few  forcible  words,  "that  if  I  did  not 
consult  the  public  good  more' than  my  own  tranquillity,  I  should 
long  ere  this  have  put  every  thing  on  the  cast  of  a  die."  But 
he  goes  on  to  say,  in  a  tone  more  habitual  with  him — "  If 
every  man  ^as  of  my  mind,  the  ministers  of  Great  Britain 
should  know,  in  a  few  words,  upon  what  issue  the  cause  should 
be  put.    I  would  not  be  deceived  by  artful  declarations,  nor 


WASHINGTON. 


25 


Headquarters,  180  Pearl  street,  New-York.  1776. 

specious  pretences,  nor  would  I  be  amused  by  unmeaning  prop- 
ositions, but,  in  open,  undisguised  and  manly  terms,  proclaim 

The  house  No.  1  Broadway,  opposite  the  Bowling-green,  remained  unaltered 
until  within  a  year  or  two  in  the  shape  here  presented,  in  which  it  had 
become   familiar  to 


all  New-Yorkers.  It 
was  built  by  Captain 
Kennedy  of  the  Roy- 
al Navy,  in  April, 
1765.  There  Lee, 
Washington,  and  af- 
terwards Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  Robertson, 
Carleton,  and  other 
British  officers  were 
quartered,  and  here 
Andre  wrote  his  let- 
ter to  Arnold. — Los- 
sing.  It  was  after- 
wards occupied  by  Aaron  Burr.  Very  recently,  this  interesting  house,  which 
in  New-York  may  be  termed  ancient,  has  been  metamorphosed  by  the  addi- 


26 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


our  wrongs,  and  our  resolution  to  be  redressed.  I  would  tell 
them  that  we  had  borne  much,  that  we  had  long  and  ardently 
sought  for  reconciliation  upon  honorable  terms  ;  that  it  had 
been  denied  us  ;  that  all  our  attempts  after  peace  had  proved 
abortive,  and  had  been  grossly  misrepresented ;  that  we  had 
done  every  thing  that  could  be  expected  from  the  best  of  sub- 
jects ;  that  the  spirit  of  freedom  rises  too  high  in  us  to  submit 
to  slavery.  This  I  would  tell  them,  not  under  covert,  but  in 
words  as  clear  as  the  sun  in  its  meridian  brightness." 

When  the  British  evacuated  Boston,  Congress  voted 
Washington  a  gold  medal,  with  abundant  thanks  and  praises ; 
and,  thus  compensated  for  the  cruel  anxieties  of  the  winter, 
he  proceeded  with  unwavering  courage  to  New- York,  where 
new  labors  awaited  him,  and  the  mortifying  defeat  at  Gowanus, 
turned  into  almost  triumph  by  the  admirable  retreat  after- 
wards. 

The  movement  from  New- York  city  to  Harlem  Heights 
should  have  been  another  glory,  and  nothing  on  the  part  of 
the  Commander-in-Chief  was  wanting  to  make  it  such,  but  a 
panic  seized  two  brigades  of  militia,  who  ran  away,  sans  facon, 
causing  Washington  to  lose,  for  a  moment,  some  portion  of 
the  power  over  Ins  own  emotions  for  which  he  is  so  justly 
celebrated.  He  dashed  in  among  the  flying  rout,  shouting, 
shaming  them,  riding  exposed  within  a  few  yards  of  the 
enemy ;  and,  finding  this  of  no  avail,  drew  his  sword  and 
threatened  to  "  run  them  through,"  and  cocked  and  snapped 
his  pistol  in  their  faces.  But  all  would  not  do,  and  General 
Greene  says,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "  He  was  so  vexed  at  the 

tion  of  two  or  three  stories,  and  it  is  now  reduced  to  be  the  "Washington 
Hotel. 


WASHINGTON.  27 

infamous  conduct  of  the  troops,  that  he  sought  death  rather 
than  life."  Washington,  the  "  man  of  marble,"  would  have 
preferred  a  thousand  deaths  to  dishonor. 

A  new  army  was  now  to  be  raised,  the  term  of  the  last 
enlistment  having  expired  ;  and,  to  form  a  just  opinion  of 
Washington's  character  and  talents,  every  letter  of  his,  £p 
Congress  and  others  during  this  period,  should  be  studied. 
Such  wisdom,  such  indignation,  such  patience,  such  manly 
firmness,  such  disappointment !  every  thing  but  despair ;  the 
watchfulness,  the  forethought,  the  perseverance  displayed  in 
those  letters,  give  a  truer  idea  of  the  man  than  all  his  battles. 

Take  a  single  passage  from  one  of  his  letters : — "  I  am 
wearied  almost  to  death  with  the  retrograde  motion  of  things, 
and  I  solemnly  protest,  that  a  pecuniary  reward  of  twenty 
thousand  pounds  a  year  would  not  induce  me  to  undergo  what 
I  do  ;  and  after  all,  perhaps,  to  lose  my  character,  as  it  is 
impossible,  under  such  a  variety  of  distressing  circumstances, 
to  conduct  matters  agreeably  to  public  expectation,  or  even 
to  the  expectation  of  those  who  employ  me,  as  they  will  not 
make  proper  allowances  for  the  difficulties  their  own  errors 
have  occasioned." 

And  besides  that  which  came  upon  him  daily,  in  the 
regular  line  of  duty,  the  yet  more  difficult  work  of  bearing  up 
the  hearts  of  others,  whose  threats  of  abandoning  the  service 
were  the  running  bass  that  made  worse  the  din  of  war.  "  I 
am  sorry  to  find,"  writes  the  Chief  to  General  Schuyler,  "  that 
both  you  and  General  Montgomery  incline  to  quit  the  ser- 
vice. Let  me  ask  you,  sir,  what  is  the  time  for  brave  men  to 
exert  themselves  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and  their  country,  if 
this  is  not  ?    God  knows  there  is  not  a  difficulty  that  you 


28  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

both  very  justly  complain  of,  which  I  have  not  in  an  eminent 
degree  experienced,  that  I  am  not  every  day  experiencing. 
But  we  must  bear  up  against  them,  and  make  the  best  of 
mankind  as  they  are,  since  we  cannot  have  them  as  we  wish." 
In  studying  the  career  of  Washington,  nothing  strikes  one 
more  frequently  than  that  no  fame  came  to  him  fortuitously, 
not  only  did  he  borrow  none,  usurp  none,  fall  heir  to  none 
that  belonged  to  others  ;  he  earned  every  tittle  that  has  ever 
been  awarded  to  him,  and  evidently  contributed  very  much, 


Headquarters,  Morristown,  New  Jersey,  1779. 

by  his  secret  advice  and  caution  to  officers  placed  in  difficult 
positions,  to  enhance  the  measure  of  praise  bestowed  on  his 
companions  in  arms. 

Dark  as  these  times  were,  Washington's  peculiar  merits 
were  every  day  becoming  more  and  more  evident  ;  indeed  the 


WASHINGTON. 


29 


darkest  hours  were  his  opportunities.  He  might  well  say, 
after  the  loss  of  Fort  Washington,  which  had  been  held  con- 
trary to  his  judgment, — "  No  person  ever  had  a  greater  choice 
of  difficulties  to  contend  with  than  I  have  ; "  yet  he  carried 
the  war  into  New  Jersey  with  all  the  resolution  and  courage 
of  a  victor.  Never  without  a  party,  too  often  a  very  large 
one,  ready  to  disparage  his  military  skill,  and  throw  doubts 
upon  his  energy  in  the  conduct  of  the  war,  he  pursued  his 
plans  without  swerving  a  hair's  breadth  to  court  the  popular 
gale,  though  a  natural  and  honorable  love  of  reputation  was 
one  of  the  ruling  passions  of  his  soul.  It  was  impossible  to 
make  the  people  believe  that  a  series  of  daring  encounters 
would  have  cost  the  Commander-in-chief  far  less  than  the 
u  Fabian  policy,"  so  scorned  at  the  time  ;  but  Washington 
saw  then,  in  the  very  heat  of  the  contest,  what  the  result  has 
now  made  evident  enough  to  all,  that  England  must  carry  on 
a  war  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe  under  an  immense  disad- 
vantage, and  that  considering  the  general  spirit  of  the  Ameri- 
can people,  the  expense  to  an  invading  power  must  be  greater 
than  even  the  richest  nation  on  earth  could  long  sustain. 
That  the  necessity  for  delay  was  intensely  mortifying  to  him, 
we  have  a  thousand  proofs  ;  and  it  was  not  the  least  bitter 
drop  in  his  cup,  that  in  order  to  conceal  from  the  enemy  the 
deficiencies  occasioned  by  the  delay  of  Congress  to  meet  his 
most  strenuous  requisitions,  he  was  obliged  to  magnify  his 
numbers  and  resources,  in  a  way  which  could  not  but  increase 
the  public  doubts  of  his  promptness.  No  one  can  read  his 
letters,  incessant  under  these  circumstances,  without  an  in- 
tense personal  sympathy,  that  almost  forgets  the  warrior  and 
the  patriot  in  the  man. 


30  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

His  being  invested  with  what  was  in  reality  a  military 
dictatorship,  did  not  help  to  render  him  more  popular,  al- 
though he  used  his  power  with  ,his  accustomed  moderation, 
conscientiousness  and  judgment.  In  this,  as  in  other  cases, 
he  took  the  whole  responsibility  and  odium,  while  he  allowed 
others  to  reap  the  credit  of  particular  efforts  ;  giving  to  every 
man  at  least  his  due,  and  content  if  the  country  was  served, 
even  though  he  himself  seemed  to  be  doing  nothing.  This 
we  gather  as  much  from  the  letters  of  others  to  him  as  from 
his  own  writings. 

The  celebrated  passage  of  the  Delaware,  on  Christmas-day, 
1776, — so  lifelike  represented  in  Leutze's  great  picture, — 
flashed  a  cheering  light  over  the  prospects  of  the  contest,  and 
lifted  up  the  hearts  of  the  desponding,  if  it  did  not  silence  the 
cavils  of  the  disaffected.  The  intense  cold  was  as  discour- 
aging here  as  the  killing  heat  had  been  at  Growanus.  Two 
men  were  found  frozen  to  death,  and  the  whole  army  suffered 
terribly  ;  but  the  success  was  splendid,  and  the  enemy's  line 
along  the  Delaware  was  broken.  The  British  opened  their 
eyes  veiy  wide  at  this  daring  deed  of  the  rebel  chief,  and  sent 
the  veteran  Cornwallis  to  chastise  his  insolence.  But  Wash- 
ington was  not  waiting  for  him.  He  had  marched  to  Prince 
ton,  harassing  the  enemy,  and  throwing  their  lines  still  more 
into  confusion.  New  Jersey  was  almost  completely  relieved, 
and  the  spirits  of  the  country  raised  to  martial  pitch  before  the 
campaign  closed.  Those  who  had  hastily  condemned  Wash- 
ington as  half  a  traitor  to  the  cause,  now  began  to  call  him  the 
Saviour  of  his  Country.  Success  has  wondrous  power  in  illum- 
inating merit,  that  may  yet  have  been  transparent  without  it. 
But  even  now,  when  he  thought  proper  to  administer  to  all  the 


WASHING  TON. 


31 


oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United  States,  granting  leave  to  the 
disaffected  to  retire  within  the  enemy's  lines,  a  new  clamor  was 
raised  against  him,  as  assuming  undue  and  dangerous  power. 
It  was  said  there  were  no  "  United  States,"  and  the  Legisla- 
ture of  New  Jersey  censured  the  order  as  interfering  with 
their  prerogative.  But  Washington  made  no  change.  The 
dangers  of  pretended  neutrality  had  become  sufficiently  appa- 
rent to  him  ;  and  he  chose,  as  he  always  did,  to  defer  Jiis 
personal  popularity'  to  the  safety  of  the  great  cause.  And 
again  he  took  occasion,  though  the  treatment  of  General  Lee 
was  in  question,  to  argue  against  retaliation  of  the  sufferings 
of  prisoners,  in  a  manly  letter,  which  would  serve  as  a  text 
in  similar  cases  for  all  time. 

What  a  blessing  was  Lafayette's  arrival  !  not  only  to  the 
struggling  States,  but  in  particular  to  Washington.  The 
spirit  of  the  generous  young  Frenchman  was  to  the  harassed 
chief  as  cold  water  to  the  thirsty  soul.  No  jealousies,  no 
fault-finding,  no  selfish  emulation  ;  but  pure,  high,  uncalcu- 
lating  enthusiasm,  and  a  devotion  to  the  character  and  person 
of  Washington  that  melted  the  strong  man,  and  opened  those 
springs  of  tenderness  which  cares  and  duties  had  well-nigh 
choked  up.  It  is  not  difficult  to  believe  that  Lafayette  had 
even  more  to  do  with  the  success  of  the  war  than  we  are  ac- 
customed to  think.  Whatever  kept  up  the  chief's  heart  up- 
bore the  army  and  the  country  ;  for  it  is  plain  that,  without 
derogation  from  the  ability  or  faithfulness  of  any  of  the  heroic 
contributors  to  the  final  triumph,  Washington  was  in  a  pecu- 
liar manner  the  life  and  soul, — the  main-spring  and  the  bal- 
ance-wheel,— the  spur  and  the  rein,  of  the  whole  movement 
and  its  result.    Blessings,  then,  on  Lafayette,  the  helper  and 


32 


HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


consoler  of  the  chosen  father  of  his  heart,  through  so  many 
trials  !  His  name  goes  down  to  posterity  on  the  same  breath 
that  is  destined  for  ever  to  proclaim  the  glory  of  Washington. 


Headquarters,  Chad's  Ford,  1777. 


Chad's  Ford,  in  Delaware,  was  the  scene  of  another  of 
those  disasters  which  it  was  Washington's  happy  fortune  to 
turn  into  benefits.  The  American  army  retreated  from  a 
much  superior  force,  and  retreated  in  such  disorder  as  could 
seem,  even  to  its  well-wishers,  little  better  than  a  flight.  But 
when,  after  encamping  at  Germantown,  it  was  found  that  the 
General  meant  to  give  battle  again,  with  a  barefooted  army, 
exhausted  by  forced  marches,  in  a  country  which  Washington 
himself  says,  was  "to  a  man,  disaffected,"  dismay  itself  became 
buoyant,  and  the  opinion  spread,  not  only  throughout  Amer- 
ica, but  even  as  far  as  France,  that  the  leader  of  our  armies 


WASHINGTON. 


33 


was  indeed  invincible.  A  heavy  rain  and  an  impenetrable  fog 
defeated  our  brave  troops  ;  the  attempt  cost  a  thousand  men. 
Washington  says,  solemnly,  "  It  was  a  bloody  day."  Yet  the 
Count  de  Vergennes,  on  whose  impressions  of  America  so 
much  depended  at  that  time,  told  our  Commissioners  in  Paris 
that  nothing  in  the  course  of  our  struggle  had  struck  him  so 
much  as  General  Washington's  venturing  to  attack  the  vete- 
ran army  of  Sir  William  Howe,  with  troops  raised  within  the 
year.  The  leader's  glory  was  never  obscured  for  a  moment,  to 
the  view  of  those  who  were  so  placed  as  to  see  it  in  its  true 
light.  Providence  seems  to  have  determined  that  the  effective 
power  of  this  great  instrument  should  be  independent  of  the 
glitter  of  victory. 


Headquarters,  "White  Marsh.,  1777 


Encamped  at  Whitemarsh,  fourteen  miles  from  Philadel- 
phia, Washington,  with  his  half-clad  and  half-fed  troops, 
awaited  an  attack  from  General  Howe,  who  had  marched  in 


34  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

that  direction  with  twelve  thousand  effective  men.  But  both 
commanders  were  wary — the  British  not  choosing  to  attack 
his  adversary  on  his  own  ground,  and  the  American  not  to  be 
decoyed  from  his  chosen  position  to  one  less  favorable.  Some 
severe  skirmishing  was  therefore  all  that  ensued,  and  General 
Howe  retreated,  rather  ingloriously,  to  Philadelphia. 


Headquarters,  Valley  Forge,  1777 


This  brings  us  to  the  terrible  winter  at  Valley  Forge,  the 
sufferings  of  which  can  need  no  recapitulation  for  our  readers. 
Washington  felt  them  with  sufficient  keenness,  yet  his  invari- 
able respect  for  the  rights  of  property  extended  to  that  of  the 
disaffected,  and  in  no  extremity  was  he  willing  to  resort  to 
coercive  measures,  to  remedy  evils  which  distressed  his  very 
soul,  and  which  he  shared  with  the  meanest  soldier.  His  tes- 
timony to  the  patience  and  fortitude  of  the  men  is  emphatic  : 
"  Naked  and  starving  as  they  are,  we  cannot  enough  admire 
the  incomparable  patience  and  fidelity  of  the  soldiery,  that 


WASHINGTON. 


35 


they  have  not  been,  ere  this,  excited  by  their  sufferings  to  a 
general  mutiny  and  dispersion."  And  while  this  evil  was 
present,  and  for  the  time  irremediable,  he  writes  to  Congress 
on  the  subject  of  a  suggestion  which  had  been  made  of  a  win- 
ter campaign,  "I  can  assure  those  gentlemen,  that  it  is  a 
much  easier  and  less  distressing  thing  to  draw  remonstrances, 
in  a  comfortable  room,  by  a  good  fireside,  than  to  occupy 
a  cold  bleak  hill,  and  sleep  under  frost  and  snow,  without 
clothes  or  blankets.  However,  although  they  seem  to  have 
little  feeling  for  the  naked  and  distrest  soldiers,  I  feel  super- 
abundantly for  them,  and  from  my  soul  I  pity  those  miseries 
which  it  is  neither  in  my  power  to.  relieve  nor  prevent." 

It  was  during  this  period  of  perplexity  and '  distress  on 
public  accounts,  that  the  discovery  of  secret  cabals  against 
himself,  was  added  to  Washington's  burthens.  But  what- 
ever was  personal  was  never  more  than  secondary  with  him. 
When  the  treachery  of  pretended  friends  was  disclosed,  he 
showed  none  of  the  warmth  which  attends  his  statement  of 
the  soldiers'  grievances.  "My  enemies  take  an  ungenerous 
advantage  of  me,"  he  said,  "  they  know  the  delicacy  of  my 
situation,  and  that  motives  of  policy  deprive  me  of  the  defence 
I  might  otherwise  make  against  their  insidious  attacks.  They 
know  I  cannot  combat  their  insinuations,  however  injurious, 
without  disclosing  secrets  which  it  is  of  the  utmost  moment  to 
conceal."  *  *  *  "  My  chief  concern  arises  from  an  ap- 
prehension of  the  dangerous  consequences  which  intestine  dis- 
sensions may  produce  to  the  common  cause." 

General  Howe  made  no  attempt  on  the  camp  during  the 
winter,  but  his  foraging  parties  were  watched  and  often  se- 
verely handled  by  the  Americans.    When  Dr.  Franklin,  who 


36  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

was  in  Paris,  was  told  that  General  Howe  had  taken  Phila- 
delphia, "  Say  rather/'  he  replied,  "  that  Philadelphia  has 
taken  General  Howe,"  and  the  advantage  was  certainly  a 
problematical  one.  Philadelphia  was  evacuated  by  the  Bri- 
tish on  the  18th  of  June,  1776,  General  Clinton  having  super- 
seded General  Howe,  who  returned  to  England  in  the  spring. 
Washington  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  the  retreating  army, 
and,  contraiy  to  the  opinion  of  General  Lee,  decided  to  attack 
them.  At  Monmouth  occurred  the  scene  so  often  cited  as 
proving  that  Washington  could  lose  his  temper — a  testimony 
to  his  habitual  self-command  which  no  art  of  praise  could  en- 
hance. Finding  General  Lee  with  his  five  thousand  men  in 
full  retreat  when  they  should  have  been  rushing  on  the  enemy, 
the  commander-in-chief  addressed  the  recreant  with  words  of 
severe  reproof,  and  a  look  and  manner  still  more  cutting. 
Keceiving  in  return  a  most  insolent  reply,  Washington  pro- 
ceeded, himself,  by  rapid  manoeuvres,  to  array  the  troops  for 
battle,  and  when  intelligence  arrived  that  the  British  were 
within  fifteen  minutes  march,  he  said  to  General  Lee,  who 
had  followed  him,  deeply  mortified, — "  Will  you  command 
on  this  ground,  or  not  ?"  "  It  is  equal  with  me  where  I 
command,"  was  the  answer.  "  Then  I  expect  you  to  take 
proper  measures  for  checking  the  enemy,"  said  the  General, 
much  incensed  at  the  offensive  manner  of  Lee.  "  Your  orders 
shall  be  obeyed,"  said  that  officer,  "  and  I  will  not  be  the  first 
to  leave  the  field."  And  his  bravery  made  it  evident  that  an 
uncontrolled  temper  was  the  fault  for  which  he  afterwards 
suffered  so  severely.  During  the  action  Washington  exposed 
himself  to  every  danger,  animating  and  cheering  on  the  men 
under  the  burning  sun  ;  and  when  night  came,  he  lay  down  in 


WASHINGTON. 


37 


his  cloak  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  hoping  for  a  general  action  the 
next  day.  But  in  the  morning  Sir  Henry  Clinton  was  gone, 
too  far  for  pursuit  under  such  killing  heat — the  thermometer 
at  96°.  Many  on  both  sides  had  perished  without  a  wound, 
from  fatigue  and  thirst. 


& 

V      7  T^^ffV       .  ^  ; 

Headquarters.  Tappan,  1778. 


The  head-quarters  at  Tappan  will  always  have  a  sad  in- 
terest from  the  fact  that  Major  Andre*,  whose  fine  private 
qualities  have  almost  made  the  world  forget  that  he  was  a 
spy,  there  met  his  unhappy  fate.  That  General  Washington 
suffered  severely  under  the  necessity  which  obliged  him,  by 
the  rules  of  war,  to  sanction  the  decision  of  the  court-martial 
in  this  case,  we  have  ample  testimony  ;  and  an  eye-witness 
still  living  observed,  that  when  the  windows  of  the  town  were 
thronged  with  gazers  at  the  stern  procession  as  it  passed, 
those  of  the  commancler-in -chief  were  entirety  closed,  and  his 
house  without  sign  of  life  except  the  two  sentinels  at  the  door. 


38 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


The  revolt  of  a  part  of  the  Pennsylvania  line,  which  oc- 
curred in  January,  1781,  afforded  a  new  occasion  for  the  exer- 
cise of  Washington's  pacific  wisdom.  He  had  felt  the  griev- 
ances of  the  army  too  warmly  to  he  surprised  when  any 
portion  of  it  lost  patience,  and  his  prudent  and  humane  sug- 
gestions, with  the  good  management  of  General  Wayne, 
proved  effectual  in  averting  the  great  danger  which  now 
threatened.  But  when  the  troops  of  New  Jersey,  emboldened 
by  this  mild  treatment,  attempted  to  imitate  their  Pennsyl- 
vania neighbors,  they  found  Washington  prepared,  and  six 
hundred  men  in  arms  ready  to  crush  the  revolt  by  force — a 
catastrophe  prevented  only  by  the  unconditional  submission 
of  the  mutineers,  who  were  obliged  to  lay  down  their  arms, 
make  concessions  to  their  officers,  and  promise  obedience. 

As  we  are  not  giving  here  a  sketch  of  the  Kevolutionary 
War,  we  pass  at  once  to  the  siege  and  surrender  at  Yorktown, 
an  event  which  shook  the  country  like  that  heaviest  clap  of 
thunder,  herald  of  the  departing  storm.  All  felt  that  brighter 
skies  were  preparing,  and  the  universal  joy  did  not  wait  tie 
sanction  of  a  deliberate  treaty  of  peace.  The  great  game  of 
chess  which  had  been  so  warily  played,  on  one  side  at  least, 
was  now  in  check,  if  not  closed  by  a  final  check-mate ;  and  peo- 
ple on  the  winning  side  were  fain  to  unknit  their  weary  brows, 
and  indulge  the  repose  they  had  earned.  Congress  and  the 
country  felt  as  if  the  decisive  blow  had  been  struck,  as  if  the 
long  agony  was  over.  Thanks  were  lavished  on  the  command- 
ers, on  the  officers,  on  the  troops.  Two  stands  of  the  enemy's 
colors  were  presented  to  the  Commander-in-Chief,  and  to 
Counts  Kochambeau  and  De  Grasse  each  a  piece  of  British 
field  ordnance  as  a  trophy.    A  commemorative  column  at 


WASHINGTON. 


39 


Yorktown  was  decreed,  to  carry  down  to  posterity  the  events 
of  the  glorious  17th  of  October,  1781.  There  was,  in  short,  a 
kind  of  wildness  in  the  national  joy,  showing  how  deep  had 
been  the  previous  despondency.  Watchmen  woke  the  citizens 
of  Philadelphia  at  one  in  the  morning,  crying  "Cornwallis  is 
taken!"  Sober,  Puritan  America  was  almost  startled  from 
her  habitual  coolness ;  almost  forgot  the  still  possible  dan- 
ger. The  chief  alone,  on  whom  had  fallen  the  heaviest  stress 
of  the  long  contest,  was  impelled  to  new  care  and  forecast  by 
the  victory.  He  feared  the  negligence  of  triumph,  and  remind- 
ed the  government  and  the  nation  that  all  might  yet  be  lost, 
without  vigilance.  "I  cannot  but  flatter  myself,"  he  says, 
"that  the  States,  rather  than  relax  in  their  exertions,  will  be 
stimulated  to  the  most  vigorous  preparations,  for  another  active, 
glorious,  and  decisive  campaign."  And  Congress  responded 
wisely  to  the  appeal,  and  called  on  the  States  to  keep  up 
the  military  establishment,  and  to  complete  their  several 
quotas  of  troops  at  an  early  day.  With  his  characteristic 
nodesty  and  courage,  Washington  wrote  to  Congress  a  letter 
of  advice  on  the  occasion,  of  which  one  sentence  may  be 
taken  as  a  specimen.  "Although  we  cannot,  by  the  best 
concerted  plans,  absolutely  command  success  ;  although  the 
race  is  not  always  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong ; 
yet,  without  presumptuously  waiting  for  miracles  to  be  wrought 
in  our  favor,  it  is  an  indispensable  duty,  with  the  deepest  gra- 
titude to  Heaven  for  the  past,  and  humble  confidence  in  its 
smiles  on  our  future  operations,  to  make  use  of  all  the  means 
in  our  power  for  our  defence  and  security." 

It  was  this  man,  pure,  devoted,  and  indefatigable  in  the 
cause  of  his  country  and  her  liberties,  that  some  shortsighted 


40        •    HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

malcontents,  judging  his  virtue  by  their  own,  would  now  have 
persuaded  to  finish  the  struggle  for  liberty  by  becoming  a  king. 
The  discontent  of  the  officers  and  soldiers,  with  the  slowness 
of  their  pay,  had  long  been  a  cause  of  ferment  in  the  army, 
and  gave  to  the  hasty  and  the  selfish  an  excuse  for  desiring  a 
change  in  the  form  of  government.  The  king's  troops  had 
been  well  fed,  well  clothed,  and  well  paid,  and  were  sure  of 
half-pay  after  the  war  should  be  finished,  while  the  continen- 
tals, suffering  real  personal  destitution,  were  always  in  arrear, 
drawing  on  their  private  resources,  and  with  no  provision  what- 
ever for  any  permanent  pecuniary  recompense.  As  to  the  half- 
pay,  Washington  had  long  before  expressed  his  opinion  of  the 
justice  as  well  as  policy  of  such  a  provision.  "I  am  ready  to 
declare/'  he  says,  "  that  I  do  most  religiously  believe  the  salva- 
tion of  the  cause  depends  upon  it,  and  without  it  your  officers 
will  moulder  to  nothing,  or  be  composed  of  low  and  illiterate 
men,  void  of  capacity  for  this  or  any  other  business.  *  *  *  * 
Personally,  as  an  officer,  I  have  no  interest  in  the  decision  ; 
because  I  have  declared,  and  I  now  repeat  it,  that  I  never  will 
receive  the  smallest  benefit  from  the  half-pay  establishment." 
But  the  deep-seated  jealousy  of  the  army,  which  haunted  Con- 
gress and  the  country,  like  a  Banshee,  throughout  the  whole 
course  of  the  war,  was  too  powerful  for  even  Washington's 
representations.  All  that  could  be  effected  was  an  unsatisfac- 
tory compromise,  and  some  of  the  officers  saw  or  affected  to 
see,  in  the  reluctance  of  the  government  to  provide  properly  for 
its  defenders,  a  sign  of  fatal  weakness,  which  but  little  recom- 
mended the  republican  form.  Under  these  circumstances,  a 
well  written  letter  was  sent  to  the  Commander-in-Chief,  pro- 
posing to  him  the  establishment  of  a  "  mixed  government,"  in 


WASHINGTON. 


41 


which  the  supreme  position  was  to  be  given,  as  of  right,  to 
the  man  who  had  been  the  instrument  of  Providence  in  sav- 
ing the  country,  in  "  difficulties  apparently  insurmountable  by 
human  power,"  the  dignity  to  be  accompanied  with  the  title 
of  king.  Of  this  daring  proposition  a  colonel  of  good  stand- 
ing was  made  the  organ.  Washington's  reply  may  be  well 
known,  but  it  will  bear  many  repetitions. 

Newburgh,  22  May,  1782. 

■«  Sir, 

"  With  a  mixture  of  great  surprise  and  astonishment,  I 
have  read  with  attention  the  sentiments  you  submitted  to  my 
perusal.  Be  assured,  Sir,  no  occurrence  in  the  course  of  the 
war  has  given  me  more  painful  sensations  than  your  informa- 
tion, of  there  being  such  ideas  existing  in  the  army  as  you 
have  expressed,  and  I  must  view  with  abhorrence,  and  re- 
prehend with  severity.  For  the  present,  the  communication  of 
them  will  rest  in  my  own  bosom,  unless  some  further  agitation 
of  the  matter  shall  make  a  disclosure  necessary. 

"  I  am  much  at  a  loss  to  conceive  what  part  of  my  conduct 
could  have  given  encouragement  to  an  address,  which,  to  me, 
seems  big  with  the  greatest  mischiefs  that  can  befall  my  coun- 
try. If  I  am  not  deceived  in  the  knowledge  of  myself,  you 
could  not  have  found  a  person  to  whom  your  schemes  are  more 
disagreeable.  At  the  same  time,  in  justice  to  my  own  feelings, 
I  must  add  that  no  man  possesses  a  more  sincere  wish  to  see 
ample  justice  done  to  the  army  than  I  do  ;  and  as  far  as  my 
powers  and  influence,  in  a  constitutional  way,  extend,  they 
shall  be  employed  to  the  utmost  of  my  abilities  to  effect  it, 
should  there  be  any  occasion.  Let  me  conjure  you,  then,  if 
you  have  any  regard  for  your  country,  concern  for  yourself  or 


42 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


posterity,  or  respect  for  me,  to  banish  these  thoughts  from  youi 
mind,  and  never  communicate,  as  from  yourself  or  any  one  else, 
a  sentiment  of  the  like  nature. 

"I  am,  Sir,  &c, 

"George  Washington." 

This  letter  is  extremely  characteristic,  not  only  because  it 
declines  the  glittering  bait,  for  that  is  hardly  worth  noticing 
where  Washington  is  in  question,  but  for  the  cool  and  quiet 
tone  of  rebuke,  in  a  case  in  which  most  other  men  would  have 
been  disposed  to  be  at  least  dramatically  indignant.  The  per- 
fectly respectful  way  in  which  he  could  show  a  man  that  he 
despised  him,  is  remarkable.  He  does  not  even  admit  that 
there  has  been  injustice  done  to  the  army,  though  the  fact  had 
cost  him  such  loads  of  anxious  and  ingenious  remonstrance ; 
but  only  promises  to  see  to  it,  "should  there  be  any  occasion." 
It  would  have  been  easier  for  him,  at  that  very  moment,  at  the 
head  of  a  victorious  army,  and  with  the  heart  of  the  nation  at 
his  feet,  to  make  himself  a  king,  than  to  induce  Congress  to  do 
justice  to  the  troops  and  their  brave  officers  ;  but  identifying 
himself  with  his  army,  he  considered  that  his  own  private  affair, 
and  would  accept  no  offer  of  partnership,  however  specious. 
Happily  the  name  of  the  "very  respectable"  colonel  has  never 
been  disclosed ;  an  instance  of  mercy  not  the  least  noticeable 
among  the  features  of  this  remarkable  transaction. 

During  the  negotiations  for  peace  which  so  soon  followed 
the  surrender  at  Yorktown,  the  discontent  of  the  army  reached 
a  height  which  became  alarming.  Meetings  of  officers  were 
called,  for  the  purpose  of  preparing  threatening  resolutions, 
since  called  "  the  Newburgh  addresses,"  to  be  offered  to  Con- 


WASHINGTON. 


43 


gress.  The  alternative  proposed  was  a  relinquishment  of  the 
service  in  a  body,  if  the  war  continued,  or  remaining  under 
arms,  in  time  of  peace,  until  justice  could  be  obtained  from 
Congress.  Washington,  having  timely  notice  of  this  danger, 
came  forward  with  his  usual  decision,  wisdom,  and  kindliness, 
to  the  rescue  of  the  public  interest  and  peace.  While  he  took 
occasion,  in  a  general  order,  to  censure  the  disorderly  and 
anonymous  form  proposed,  he  himself  called  a  meeting  of  offi- 
cers, taking  care  to  converse  in  private  beforehand  with  many 
of  them,  acknowledging  the  justice  of  their  complaints,  but  in- 
culcating moderation  and  an  honorable  mode  of  obtaining  what 
they  desired.  It  is  said  that  many  of  the  gentlemen  were  in 
tears  when  they  left  the  presence  of  the  Commander-in-Chief. 
When  they  assembled,  he  addressed  them  in  the  most  inrpres- 
sive  manner,  imploring  them  not  to  tarnish  their  hard-won 
laurels,  by  selfish  passion,  in  a  case  in  which  the  vital  in- 
terests of  the  country  were  concerned.  He  insisted  on  the  good 
faith  of  Congress,  and  the  certainty  that,  before  the  army  should 
be  disbanded,  all  claims  would  be  satisfactorily  adjusted. 

His  remonstrance  proved  irresistible.  The  officers,  left  to 
themselves, — for  the  General  withdrew  after  he  had  given  utter- 
ance to  the  advice  made  so  potent  by  his  character  and  ser- 
vices,— passed  resolutions  thanking  him  for  his  wise  interference, 
and  expressing  their  love  and  respect  for  him,  and  their  deter- 
mination to  abide  by  his  counsel.  In  this  emergency  Washing- 
ton may  almost  have  been  said  to  have  saved  his  country  a 
second  time,  but  in  his  letters  written  at  the  time  he  sinks  all 
mention  of  his  own  paramount  share  in  restoring  tranquillity, 
speaking  merely  of  "measures  taken  to  postpone  the  meeting/' 
and  "the  good  sense  of  the  officers"  having  terminated  the  affair 


44  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

"in  a  manner  which  reflects  the  greatest  glory  on  themselves." 
His  own  remonstrances  with  Congress  were  immediately  renewed, 
setting  forth  the  just  claims  of  those  who  "had  so  long,  so  pa- 
tiently, and  so  cheerfully,  fought  under  his  direction/'  so  forci- 
bly, that  in  a  very  short  time  all  was  conceded,  and  general 
harmony  and  satisfaction  established. 

His  military  labors  thus  finished, — for  the  adjudication  of 
the  army  claims  by  Congress  was  almost  simultaneous  with  the 
news  of  the  signing  of  the  treaty  at  Paris, — "Washington  might, 
without  impropriety,  have  given  himself  up  to  the  private  oc- 
cupations and  enjoyments  so  religiously  renounced  for  eight 
years, — the  proclamation  of  peace  to  the  army  having  been 
made,  April  19,  1783,  precisely  eight  years  from  the  day  of 
the  first  bloodshedding  at  Lexington.  But  the  feelings  of  a 
father  were  too  strong  within  him,  and  his  solicitudes  brooded 
over  the  land  of  his  love  with  that  unfailing  anxiety  for  its 
best  good  which  had  characterized  him  from  the  beginning. 
Yet  he  modestly  observes,  in  a  letter  on  the  subject  to  Col. 
Hamilton,  "  How  far  any  further  essay  by  me  might  be  pro- 
ductive of  the  wishecl-for  end,  or  appear  to  arrogate  more  than 
belongs  to  me,  depends  so  much  upon  popular  opinion,  and  the 
temper  and  dispositions  of  the  people,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  de- 
cide." He  wrote  a  circular  letter  to  the  Governors  of  the  sev- 
eral States,  full  of  wisdom,  dignity,  and  kindness,  dwelling 
principally  on  four  great  points — an  indissoluble  union  of  the 
States  ;  a  sacred  regard  to  public  justice  ;  the  adoption  of  a 
proper  military  peace  establishment ;  and  a  pacific  and  friendly 
disposition  among  the  people  of  the  States,  which  should  in- 
duce them  to  forget  local  prejudices,  and  incline  them  to  mu- 
tual concessions.    This  address  is  masterly  in  all  respects,  and 


W  ASHINGTON. 


45 


was  felt  to  be  particularly  well-timed,  the  calm  and  honored 
voice  of  Washington  being  at  that  moment  the  only  one  which 
could  hope  to  be  heard  above  the  din  of  party,  and  amid  the 
confusion  natural  during  the  first  excitement  of  joy  and  tri- 
umph. 

Congress  was  not  too  proud  to  ask  the  counsel  of  its  brave 
and  faithful  servant,  in  making  arrangements  for  peace  and  set- 
tling the  new  affairs  of  the  country.  Washington  was  invited 
to  Princeton,  where  Congress  was  then  sitting,  and  introduced 
into  the  Chamber,  where  he  was  addressed  by  the  President, 
and  congratulated  on  the  success  of  the  war,  to  which  he  had 
so  much  contributed.  Washington  replied  with  his  usual  self- 
respect  and  modesty,  and  retired.  A  house  had  been  prepared 
for  him  at  Rocky  Hill,  near  Princeton,  where  he  resided  for 


Headquarters.  Rocky  Hill,  N.  .1  1783 


some  time,  holding  conference  with  committees  and  members, 
and  giving  counsel  on  public  affairs  ;  and  where  he  wrote  that 


46  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

admirable  farewell  to  his  army,  perhaps  as  full  of  his  own  pe- 
culiar spirit  as  any  of  his  public  papers.  His  thanks  to  officers 
and  soldiers  for  their  devotion  during  the  war  have  no  perfunc- 
tory coldness  in  them,  but  speak  the  full  heart  of  a  brave  and 
noble  captain,  reviewing  a  most  trying  period,  and  recalling  with 
warm  gratitude  the  co-operation  of  those  on  whom  he  relied. 
Then,  for  their  future,  his  cautions  and  persuasions,  the  mo- 
tives he  urges,  and  the  virtues  he  recommends,  all  form  a  curi- 
ous contrast  with  those  of  Napoleon's  addresses  to  his  troops. 
"Let  it  be  known  and  remembered,"  he  says,  "that  the  repu- 
tation of  the  federal  armies  is  established  beyond  the  reach  of 
malevolence ;  and  let  a  consciousness  of  their  achievements  and 
fame  still  incite  the  men  who  composed  them  to  honorable  ac- 
tions ;  under  the  persuasion  that  the  private  virtues  of  econo- 
my, prudence,  and  industry,  will  not  be  less  amiable  in  civil 
life,  than  the  more  splendid  qualities  of  valor,  perseverance  and 
enterprise  were  in  the  field."  Thus  consistent  to  the  last  he 
honored  all  the  virtues  ;  showing  that  while  those  of  the  field 
were  not  misplaced  in  the  farm,  those  of  the  farm  might  well 
be  counted  among  the  best  friends  of  the  field — his  own  life  of 
planter  and  soldier  forming  a  glorious  commentary  on  his  doc- 
trines. 

The  evacuation  of  New- York  by  the  British  was 'a  grand 
affair,  General  Washington  and  Governor  George  Clinton  rid- 
ing in  at  the  head  of  the  American  troops  that  came  from  the 
northward  to  take  possession,  while  Sir  Guy  Carleton  and  his 
legions  embarked  at  the  lower  end  of  the  city.  The  immense 
cavalcade  of  the  victors  embraced  both  military  and  civil  au- 
thorities, and  was  closed  by  a  great  throng  of  citizens.  This  ab- 
solute finale  of  the  war  brought  on  the  Commander-in-Chief 


WASHINGTON. 


47 


one  of  those  duties  at  once  sweet  and  painful — taking  leave 
of  his  companions  in  arms  ;  partners  in  toil  and  triumph,  in 
danger  and  victory.  "  I  cannot  come  to  each  of  you  to  take 
my  leave/'  he  said,  as  he  stood,  trembling  with  emotion,  "but 
I  shall  be  obliged  if  each  of  you  will  come  and  take  me  by  the 
hand."  General  Knox,  the  warm-hearted,  stood  forward  and 
received  the  first  embrace ;  then  the  rest  in  succession,  silently 
and  with  universal  tears.  Without  another  word  the  General 
walked  from  the  room,  passed  through  lines  of  soldiery  to  the 
barge  which  awaited  him,  then,  turning,  waved  his  hat,  and 
bade  to  friends  and  comrades  a  silent,  heartfelt  adieu,  which 
was  responded  to  in  the  same  solemn  spirit.  All  felt  that  it 
was  not  the  hour  nor  the  man  for  noisy  cheers  ;  the  spirit  of 
Washington  presided  there,  as  ever,  where  honorable  and  high- 
minded  men  were  concerned. 

The  journey  southward  was  a  triumphal  march.  Ad- 
dresses, processions,  delegations  from  religious  and  civil  bodies, 
awaited  him  at  every  pause.  When  he  reached  Philadelphia 
he  appeared  before  Congress  to  resign  his  commission,  and  no 
royal  abdication  was  ever  so  rich  in  dignity.  All  the  human 
life  that  the  house  would  hold  came  together  to  hear  him, 
and  the  words,  few  and  simple,  wise  and  kind,  that  fell  from 
the  hps  of  the  revered  chief,  proved  worthy  to  be  engraved  on 
every  heart.  In  conclusion  he  said: — "Having  now  finished 
the  work  assigned  me,  I  retire  from  the  great  theatre  of  action ; 
and,  bidding  an  affectionate  farewell  to  this  august  body,  un- 
der whose  orders  I  have  so  long  acted,  I  here  offer  my  commis- 
sion, and  take  my  leave  of  all  the  employments  of  public  life." 
He  said  afterwards  to  a  friend  : — "  I  feel  now  as  I  conceive  a 
wearied  traveller  must  do,  who,  after  treading  many  a  step 


48  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

with  a  heavy  burden  on  his  shoulders,  is  eased  of  the  latter, 
having  reached  the  haven  to  which  all  the  former  were  directed, 
and  from  his  house-top  is  looking  back,  and  tracing  with  an 
eager  eye  the  meanders  by  which  lie  escaped  the  quicksands 
and  mire  which  lay  in  his  way,  and  into  which  none  but  the 
all-powerful  Guide  and  Dispenser  of  human  events  could  have 
prevented  his  falling."  And  to  Lafayette,  he  says  : — "  I  am 
not  only  retired  from  all  public  employments,  but  I  am  retir- 
ing within  myself,  and  shall  be  able  to  view  the  solitary  walk, 
and  tread  the  paths  of  private  life  with  a  heartfelt  satisfaction. 
Envious  of  none,  I  am  determined  to  be  pleased  with  all ;  and 
this,  my  dear  friend,  being  the  order  of  my  march,  I  will  move 
gently  down  the  stream  of  life  until  I  sleep  with  my  fathers." 

That  the  public  did  not  anticipate  for  him  the  repose  and 
retirement  he  so  much  desired,  we  may  gather  from  the  in- 
structions sent,  at  the  time  he  resigned  his  commission,  by  the 
State  of  Pennsylvania,  to  her  representatives  in  Congress,  say- 
ing that  "  his  illustrious  actions  and  virtues  render  his  charac- 
ter so  splendid  and  venerable  that  it  is  highly  probable  the 
world  may  make  his  life  in  a  considerable  degree  public  and 
that  "his  very  services  to  his  country  may  therefore  subject 
liim  to  expenses,  unless  he  permits  her  gratitude  to  interpose." 
"  We  are  perfectly  acquainted,"  says  the  paper,  "  with  the  dis- 
interestedness and  generosity  of  his  soul.  He  thinks  himself 
amply  rewarded  for  all  his  labors  and  cares,  by  the  love  and 
prosperity  of  his  fellow-citizens.  It  is  true  no  rewards  they 
can  bestow  can  be  equal  to  his  merits,  but  they  ought  not  to 
suffer  those  merits  to  be  burdensome  to  him.  *  *  We  are 
aware  of  the  delicacy  with  which  such  a  subject  must  be  treated. 
But,  relying  in  the  good  sense  of  Congress,  we  wish  it  may  en- 
gage their  early  attention." 


WASHINGTON. 


49 


The  delegates,  on  receipt  of  these  instructions,  very  wisely 
bethought  themselves  of  submitting  the  matter  to  the  person 
most  concerned  before  they  brought  it  before  Congress,  and  he, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  entirely  declined  the  intended 
favor,  and  put  an  end  to  the  project  altogether.  If  he  could 
have  been  induced  to  accept  pecuniary  compensation,  there  is 
no  doubt  a  grateful  nation  would  gladly  have  made  it  ample. 
But  Washington,  born  to  be  an  example  in  so  many  respects, 
had  provided  against  all  the  dangers  and  temptations  of  money, 
by  making  himself*  independent  as  to  his  private  fortune ;  hav- 
ing neglected  no  opportunity  of  enlarging  it  by  honorable  la- 
bor or  judicious  management,  while  he  subjected  the  expenses 
of  his  family  to  the  strictest  scrutiny  of  economy. 

His  first  care,  on  arriving  at  Mount  Vernon,  was  to  ascer- 


Mount  Vernon  (rear  view). 


50  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

tain  the  condition  of  his  private  affairs  ;  his  next  to  make  a 
tour  of  more  than  six  hundred  miles  through  the  western  coun- 
try, with  the  double  purpose  of  inspecting  some  lands  of  his, 
and  of  ascertaining  the  practicability  of  a  communication  be- 
tween the  head  waters  of  the  great  rivers  flowing  east  and  west 
of  the  Alleghanies.  He  travelled  entirely  on  horseback,  in 
military  style,  and  kept  a  minute  journal  of  each  day's  observa- 
tions, the  result  of  which  he  communicated,  on  his  return,  in  a 
letter  to  the  Governor  of  Virginia,  which  Mr.  Sparks  declares  to 
be  "one  of  the  ablest,  most  sagacious,  and  niost  important  pro- 
ductions of  his  pen,"  and  "the  first  suggestion  of  the  great  sys- 
tem of  internal  improvements  which  has  since  been  pursued  in 
the  United  States."  On  a  previous  tour,  through  the  northern 
part  of  the  State  of  New- York,  he  had  observed  the  possibility 
of  a  water  communication  between  the  Hudson  and  the  great 
Lakes,  and  appreciated  its  advantages,  thus  foreshowing,  at 
that  early  date,  the  existence  of  the  Erie  Canal.  In  1784, 
Washington  had  a  final  visit  from  Lafayette,  from  whom  he 
parted  at  Annapolis,  with  manifestations  of  a  deeper  tender- 
ness than  the  weak  can  even  know.  Arrived  at  home,  he  sat 
down  at  once  to  say  yet  another  word  to  the  beloved  :  "  In 
the  moment  of  our  separation,  upon  the  road  as  I  travelled, 
and  every  hour  since,"  (mark  the  specification  from  this  man 
of  exact  truth,)  "  I  have  felt  all  that  love,  resj)ect  and  attach- 
ment for  you,  with  which  length  of  years,  close  connection, 
and  your  merits  have  inspired  me.  I  often  asked  myself,  as 
our  carriages  separated,  whether  that  was  the  last  sight  I 
should  ever  have  of  you  ?  And  though  I  wished  to  say  No  ! 
my  fears  answered  Yes  ! "  He  was  right  ;  they  never  met 
again,  but  they  loved  each  other  always.    Lafayette's  letters  to 


WASHINGTON. 


51 


Washington  are  lover-like  ;  they  are  alone  sufficient  to  show 
how  capable  of  the  softest  feeling  was  the  great  heart  to  which 
they  were  addressed. 

Space  fails  us  for  even  the  baldest  enumeration  of  the  in- 
stances of  care  for  the  public  good  with  which  the  life  of  Wash- 
ington abounded,  when  he  fancied  himself  "  in  retirement/'  for 
we  have  unconsciously  dwelt,  with  the  reverence  of  affection, 
upon  the  picture  of  his  character  during  the  Kevolution,  and 
felt  impelled  to  illustrate  it,  where  we  could,  by  quotations 
from  his  own  weighty  words;  weighty,  because,  to  him,  words 
were  things  indeed,  and  we  feel  that  he  never  used  one  thought- 
lessly or  untruly.  Brevity  must  now  be  our  chief  aim,  and  we 
pass,  at  once,  over  all  the  labor  and  anxiety  which  attended  the 
settlement  of  the  Constitution,  to  mention  the  election  of  Wash- 
ington to  the  Presidency  of  the  States  so  newly  united,  by  bonds 
which,  however  willingly  assumed,  were  as  yet  but  ill  fitted  to 
the  wearers.  The  unaffected  reluctance  with  which  he  ac- 
cepted the  trust  appears  in  every  word  and  action  of  the  time  ; 
and  it  is  evident  that,  as  far  as  selfish  feelings  went,  he  was 
much  more  afraid  of  losing  the  honor  he  had  gained  than  of 
acquiring  new.  The  heart  of  the  nation  was  with  him,  how- 
ever, even  more  than  he  knew;  and  the  "mind  oppressed  with 
more  anxious  and  painful  sensations "  than  he  had  words  to 
express  at  the  outset,  was  soon  calmed,  not  only  by  the  sug- 
gestions of  duty,  but  by  the  marks  of  unbounded  love  and  con- 
fidence lavished  on  him  at  every  step  of  his  way  by  a  grateful 
people.  The  Inaugural  Oath  was  taken,  before  an  immense 
concourse  of  people,  on  the  balcony  of  Federal  Hall,  New- York, 
April  30,  1789,  and  the  President  afterwards  delivered  his 
first  Address,  in  the  Senate  Chamber  of  the  same  building, 


52  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

now  no  longer  standing,  but  not  very  satisfactorily  replaced  by 
that  magnificent  Grecian  temple  wherein  the  United  States 
Government  collects  the  Customs  of  New- York.  The  house  in 
which  the  first  Presidential  levee  was  held  will  always  be  a 


House  of  the  First  Presidential  Levee.  Cherry  street 


point  of  interest,  and  the  consultations  between  Washington 
and  the  great  officers  of  state  about  the  simple  ceremonial  of 
these  public  receptions,  are  extremely  curious,  as  showing  the 
manners  and  ideas  of  the  times,  and  the  struggle  between  the 
old-country  associations  natural  to  gentlemen  of  that  day,  and 
the  recognized  necessity  of  accommodating  even  court  regula- 
tions to  the  feelings  of  a  people  to  whom  the  least  shadow  of 
aristocratic  form  was  necessarily  hateful.  We  must  not  con- 
demn the  popular  scrupulousness  of  1789  as  puerile  and  foolish, 
until  we  too  have  perilled  life  and  fortune  in  the  cause  of 
liberty  and  equality. 


WASHINGTON. 


53 


A  dangerous  illness  brought  Washington  near  the  grave, 
during  his  first  Presidential  summer,  and  he  is  said  never  to 
have  regained  his  full  strength.  In  August  Ins  mother  died, 
venerable  for  years  and  wisdom,  and  always  honored  by  her 
son  in  a  spirit  that  would  have  satisfied  a  Koman  matron. 
She  maintained  her  simple  habits  to  the  last,  and  is  said  never 
to  have  exhibited  surprise  or  elation,  at  her  son's  greatest 
glory,  or  the  highest  honors  that  could  be  paid  him.  Her  re- 
mains rest  under  an  unfinished  monument,  near  Fredericks- 
burgh,  Virginia. 

Of  the  wife  of  the  illustrious  Chief,  it  is  often  said  that 
little  is  known,  and  there  is  felt  almost  a  spite  against  her 
memory  because  she  destroyed  before  her  death  every  letter  of 
her  husband  to  herself,  save  only  one,  written  when  he  accept- 
ed the  post  of  Commander-in-Chief.  But,  to  our  thinking, 
one  single  letter  of  hers,  written  to  Mrs.  Warren,  after  the 
President's  return  from  a  tour  through  the  eastern  States,  tells 
the  whole  story  of  her  character  and  tastes,  a  story  by  no 
means  discreditable  to  the  choice  of  the  wisest  of  mankind. 
Mr.  Sparks  gives  the  letter  entire,  as  we  would  gladly  do  if  it 
were  admissible.  We  must,  however,  content  ourselves  with 
a  few  short  extracts  : — 

"  You  know  me  well  enough  to  believe  that  I  am  fond  only 
of  what  comes  from  the  heart.  Under  a  conviction  that  the 
demonstrations  of  respect  and  affection  to  him  originate  in  that 
source,  I  cannot  deny  that  I  have  taken  some  interest  and 
pleasure  in  them.  The  difficulties  which  presented  themselves 
to  view  in  his  first  entering  upon  the  Presidency,  seem  thus 
to  be  in  some  measure  surmounted.  *  *  *  I  had  little 
thought,  when  the  war  was  finished,  that  any  circumstances 


54  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

could  possibly  happen  which  would  call  the  General  into  pub- 
lic life  again.  I  had  anticipated  that  from  that  moment  we 
should  be  suffered  to  grow  old  together,  in  solitude  and  tran- 
quillity. That  was  the  first  and  dearest  wish  of  my  heart.  I 
will  not,  however,  contemplate  with  too  much  regret,  disap- 
pointments that  were  inevitable,  though  his  feelings  and  my 
own  were  in  perfect  unison  with  respect  to  our  predilection  for 
private  life.  Yet  I  cannot  blame  him  for  having  acted  accord- 
ing to  his  ideas  of  duty,  in  obeying  the  voice  of  his  country. 
The  consciousness  of  having  attempted  to  do  all  the  good  in 
his  power,  and  the  pleasure  of  finding  his  fellow-citizens  so  well 
satisfied  with  the  disinterestedness  of  his  conduct,  will  doubt- 
less be  some  compensation  for  the  great  sacrifice  I  know  he 
has  made.  *  *  *  With  respect  to  myself,  I  sometimes  think 
the  arrangement  is  not  quite  as  it  ought  to  have  been,  that  I, 
who  had  much  rather  be  at  home,  should  occupy  a  place  with 
which  a  great  many  younger  and  gayer  women  would  be  ex- 
tremely pleased.  *  *  *  I  am  still  determined  to  be  cheerful 
and  happy,  in  whatever  situation  I  may  be ;  for  I  have  learned 
from  experience  that  the  greater  part  of  our  hajopiness  or  mis- 
ery depends  on  our  dispositions  and  not  on  our  circumstances. 
We  carry  the  seeds  of  the  one  or  the  other  about  with  us,  in 
our  minds,  wherever  we  go."  The  whole  letter  bespeaks  the 
good,  kind,  dutiful  and  devoted  wife,  the  loving  mother, — 
for  she  represents  her  grandchildren  as  her  chief  joy, — and  the 
sensible,  domestic  woman.  What  more  can  any  man  ask  in 
the  partner  of  his  bosom  ?  She  was  the  best  wife  possible  for 
Washington,  and  he  thought  her  such,  and  loved  her  entirely 
and  always.  The  picture  by  Stuart  shows  her,  even  in  the  de- 
cline of  life,  to  have  been  of  a  delicate  and  sprightly  beauty. 


WASHINGTON. 


55 


Another  eight  years  of  public  duty  and  public  life — two 
presidential  terms — were  bravely  borne  by  the  pair  always 
longing  for  Mount  Vernon.  The  reluctance  of  Washington  to 
the  second  term  of  office  was  even  stronger  than  that  which  he 
had  expressed  to  the  first,  but  he  was  overborne  by  stress  of 
voices.  "  The  confidence  of  the  whole  Union,"  writes  Jefferson; 
"  is  centred  in  you.  *  *  *  There  is  sometimes  an  eminence  of 
character  on  which  society  have  such  peculiar  claims,  as  to  con- 
trol the  predilection  of  the  individual  for  a  particular  walk  of 
happiness,  and  restrain  him  to  that  alone  arising  from  the  pre- 
sent and  future  benedictions  of  mankind.  This  seems  to  be 
your  condition,  and  the  law  imposed  on  you  by  Providence  in 
forming  your  character,  and  fashioning  the  events  on  which  it 
was  to  operate."  And  Hamilton  says — "I  trust,  and  I  pray 
God,  that  you  will  determine  to  make  a  further  sacrifice  of 
your  tranquillity  and  happiness  to  the  public  good."  And 
such  were,  throughout,  the  sentiments  of  the  first  men  of  the 
country,  without  distinction  of  politics.  Thus  urged,  he  yielded 
once  more,  even  after  he  had  prepared  a  farewell  address  to 
the  people  on  his  contemplated  resignation. 

It  was  during  this  second  term  that  Fox  spoke  of  Wash- 
ington before  Parliament,  concluding  thus : — "  It  must  indeed 
create  astonishment,  that,  placed  in  circumstances  so  critical, 
and  filling  for  a  series  of  years  a  station  so  conspicuous,  his 
character  should  never  once  have  been  called  in  question.  *  *  * 
For  him  it  has  been  reserved  to  run  the  race  of  glory  without 
experiencing  the  smallest  interruption  to  the  brilliancy  of  his 
career."  And  Mr.  Erskine,  writing  to  Washington  himself, 
says : — "I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  introduce  your  august  and 
immortal  name  in  a  short  sentence  which  will  be  found  in  the 


56  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

book  I  send  you.*    I  have  a  large  acquaintance  among  the 
most  valuable  and  exalted  classes  of  men ;  but  you  are  the 
only  human  being  for  whom  I  ever  felt  an  awful  reverence.  I 
sincerely  pray  God  to  grant  a  long  and  serene  evening  to  a  life  - 
so  gloriously  devoted  to  the  universal  happiness  of  the  world." 

The  evening  was  indeed  serene,  but  it  was  not  destined  to 
be  long.  Two  years  were  spent  in  domestic  and  social  duty 
and  pleasure,  the  old  Virginia  hospitality  being  carried  to  an 
enormous  extent  at  Mount  Vernon,  over  which  General  and 
Mrs.  Washington  presided,  with  all  that  good  sense,  dignity, 
and  bonliommie  united,  which  seems  now  to  have  characterized 
their  home  life.  Mrs.  Washington,  content  with  the  greatness 
described  by  the  wise  king,  looked  well  to  her  maidens,  and  so 
managed  the  affairs  of  a  large  establishment  that  "the  heart 
of  her  husband  could  safely  trust  in  her,  so  that  he  had  no  need 
of  spoil."  Who  knows  how  much  the  good  management  of 
his  household  affairs  had  to  do  with  Washington's  superiority 
to  the  temptations  of  gain  ?  The  ladies  should  see  to  it  that 
they  so  regulate  their  habits  of  expense  that  their  husbands  have 
"no  need  of  spoil."  The  extravagant  tastes  of  Mrs.  Arnold, 
amiable  woman  though  she  was,  are  known  to  have  heightened 
her  husband's  rapacity,  and  thus  added  to  the  incentives  which  re- 
sulted in  treason  and  just  ruin.  Mrs.  Washington,  when  she  was 
in  the  highest  position  in  the  nation,  wore  gowns  spun  under  her 
own  roof,  and  always  took  care,  in  her  conversation  with  the 
ladies  about  her,  to  exalt  domestic  employments,  and  represent 
them  as  belonging  to  the  duty  of  woman  in  any  station.  She 
was  supposed  to  have  written  a  patriotic  paper,  published  in 

*  On  the  causes  and  consequences  of  the  war  with  France. 


WASHINGTON. 


57 


1780,  called  "  The  Sentiments  of  American  Women,"  but  the 
authorship  has  not  been  ascertained.  The  energy  and  consist- 
ency of  her  patriotic  feeling  was,  however,  perfectly  well  under- 
stood, and  she  is  said  to  have  borne  her  part  in  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  distinguished  company  at  Mount  Vernon,  with  in- 
variable dignity  and  sweetness.  The  General  had  returned 
with  unction  to  his  rural  and  agricultural  pursuits,  keeping 
up  his  life-long  habit  of  rising  before  the  sun,  and  after  break- 
fast making  the  tour  of  the  plantation  on  horseback.  These 
employments  were  somewhat  interrupted  by  the  speck  of  war 
which  troubled  our  horizon  in  1798,  on  which  occasion  all  eyes 
were  turned  to  him,  and  his  friends  and  the  President  called 
upon  him  once  more  to  give  his  services  to  the  country.  His 
reply  was  consistent  with  the  tenor  of  his  life,  "In  case  of  ac- 
tual invasion  by  a  formidable  force,  I  certainly  should  not  in- 
trench myself  under  the  cover  of  age  and  retirement,  if  my  ser- 
vices should  be  required  by  my  country  in  repelling  it."  With- 
out waiting  for  his  reply,  the  Senate  had  appointed  him  to  the 
post  of  Commander-in-Chief,  and  the  Secretary  at  War  was  des- 
patched immediately  to  Mount  Vernon  with  the  commission, 
which  was  at  once  accepted.  This  involved  Washington  once 
more  in  a  press  of  correspondence  and  many  anxious  duties  ; 
and  his  letters  during  this  time  show  that  his  mind  had  lost 
none  of  its  fertility  or  his  judgment  of  its  soundness.  He  pre- 
dicted at  once  that  France  would  not  invade  the  United  States, 
and  the  event  justified  his  foresight.  But  another  Enemy  lay 
in  wait  for  him,  and  to  this  one  the  hero  succumbed,  in  the 
same  manly  spirit  in  which  he  had  battled  with  an  earthly  foe. 
Great  suffering  was  crowded  into  the  twenty-four  hours'  illness 
which  served  to  prostrate  that  vigorous  form,  and  to  still  that 


58  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

active  brain ;  but  he  could  look  up,  at  the  last,  and  say — "  1 
am  not  afraid  to  die." 

December  14,  1  79  9,  was  the  day  of  his  death,  and  the 
18th  of  the  same  month  saw  him  laid,  by  a  weeping  multitude, 
in  the  family  vault  at  Mount  Vernon ;  not  the  tomb  in  which 
liis  ashes  now  repose,  but  the  old  one,  which  he  had  been  plan- 
ning to  rebuild,  saying  "  Let  that  be  done  first,  for  perhaps  I 
shall  want  it  first/' 

We  have  thus  traced  the  Father  of  our  Country  through 
all  his  earthly  Homes,  to  that  quiet  one  by  the  side  of  the  Po- 
tomac, the  object  of  devout  pilgrimage  to  millions  yet  unborn. 
One  more  Home  there  is  for  liim,  even  in  this  changing  world — 
that  which  he  possesses  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen, 
one  which  we  cannot  picture  or  describe,  but  from  which 
which  he  can  never  be  displaced  by  the  superior  merit  of  mor- 
tal man.  Other  heroes  may  arise,  will  arise,  as  the  world  shall 
need  them,  exponents  of  their  times  and  incarnations  of  the 
highest  spirit  of  the  race  from  which  they  spring  ;  but  America 
can  have  but  one  Washington — one  man  in  whom  the  pecu- 
liar virtues  of  the  American  character  found  their  embodiment 
and  their  triumph.  In  saying  this  we  may  well  be  proud  but 
not  vainglorious.  If  the  great  truth  it  implies  be  not  yet 
known  and  read  of  all  men,  we  should  be  humbled  by  the 
thought  that  we  are  so  slow  to  follow  our  immortal  leader. 
Washington's  indomitable  spirit  of  freedom,  as  evident  when 
at  nineteen  he  withstood  the  English  governor,  as  when  in 
1774  he  "  went  to  church  and  fasted  all  day,"  in  sympathy 
with  the  people  of  Boston,  in  their  resolution  against  the  Port 
Bill ;  his  self-control,  the  perfection  of  which  made  his  fierce 
passions  the  sworn  servants  of  virtue  ;  his  humanity,  which  no 


WASHINGTON. 


59 


personal  suffering  or  fatigue  could  blunt,  and  no  provocation 
extinguish  ;  his  manly  temper,  never  daunted  by  insolence  or 
turned  into  arrogance  by  triumph  ;  the  respect  for  the  civil 
virtues  which  he  carried  with  him  through  all  the  temptations 
and  trials  of  war ;  the  faith  in  God  and  man  which  sustained 
him,  and  was  indeed  the  secret  of  his  power  and  his  success, — 
what  a  legacy  are  these !  All  that  he  accomplished  is  less  to 
us  than  what  he  was.  To  have  left  an  example  that  will 
never  need  defence  or  substitution  to  the  end  of  time ;  an  ideal 
that  will  warm  the  heart  and  point  the  aspiration  of  every  true 
American,  when  hundreds  of  millions  shall  be  proud  of  the 
name  ;  to  stand  forth,  for  ever,  as  what  we,  happy  citizens  of 
the  country  in  which  that  great  soul  was  cradled,  and  to  which 
his  heart  and  life  were  devoted,  think  a  man  ought  to  be — 
what  a  destiny  for  him  !  It  is  his  reward.  God  has  granted 
his  prayers.  Nothing  earthly  would  have  satisfied  him,  as  we 
know  by  what  he  rejected.  He  has  received  that  for  which 
he  labored.  Who  dare  imagine  the  complacency — only  less 
than  divine,  with  which  the  retrospect  of  such  a  life  may  be 
fraught  !  Let  us  indulge  the  thought  that  when  in  the  heat 
of  party,  the  lust  of  power,  or  the  still  deadlier  hunger  for 
wealth,  we  depart  from  his  spirit,  he  is  permitted  to  see  that 
the  dereliction  is  but  temporary  and  limited ;  that  his  country 
is  true  to  him  if  his  countrymen  sometimes  err ;  that  there  is 
for  ever  imprinted,  on  the  heart  and  life  of  the  nation,  the  con- 
viction that  in  adherence  to  his  precepts  and  imitation  of  his 
character  there  is  safety,  happiness,  glory  ;  in  departure  from 
that  standard,  deterioration  and  decay.  It  must  be  so,  for  can 
we  conceive  him  blest  without  this  ? 

As  if  to  stamp  the  American  ideal  with  all  perfection,  it 


60 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


is  remarkable  that  Washington  stood  pre-eminent  in  manly 
strength  and  beauty,  and  that  a  taste  for  athletic  exercises 
kept  him,  in  spite  of  illnesses  brought  on  by  toil,  anxiety,  and 


Washington's  Tomb. 


exposure,  in  firm  health  during  most  of  his  life.  His  picture 
at  sixty-two,  that  which  he  himself  thought  the  best  like- 


WASHINGTON. 


61 


ness  that  had  been  taken  of  him,  exhibits  one  of  the  loveli- 
est faces  that  an  old  man  ever  wore.  And  it  is  marvellous  how 
any  one  that  ever  looked  into  the  clear  blue  depths  of  the  eye 
in  Stuart's  unfinished  picture,  could  be  persuaded  to  believe 
Washington  stern,  cold,  and  unfeeling.  Some  have  even 
thought  it  added  to  his  dignity  to  represent  him  thus.  All 
the  historians  in  the  world  could  not  prove  such  a  contradic- 
tion to  the  stamp  of  nature.  But  the  picture  by  Pine — the 
old  man,  faded  somewhat,  and  a  little  fallen  in  outline,  wears 
the  face  of  an  angel ;  mild,  firm,  modest,  sensitive,  aspiring, 
glorious  !  It  meets  your  gaze  with  a  tenderness  that  dims 
your  eye  and  seems  almost  to  dim  its  own.  Of  all  the  por- 
traits of  Washington,  this  and  the  half-imaginary  one  made 
by  Mr.  Leutze  from  a  miniature  taken  when  Washington  was 
seventeen,  are  the  most  touchingly  beautiful,  and,  as  we  verily 
believe,  most  characteristic  of  the  man. 

It  is  proper,  though  scarcely  necessary,  to  say  that  this 
sketch  of  Washington's  life  is  drawn  from  Mr.  Sparks'  history, 
since  no  research  can  discover  a  single  fact  overlooked  by  that 
faithful  and  just  chronicler. 


$  x  a  it  k  1 1  it ♦ 


FRANKLIN. 


N  English  traveller  in  the  United  States  once  expressed 


ii  his  astonishment  at  nowhere  finding  a  monument  of 
Franklin.  He  regarded  it  as  a  new  proof  of  the  ingratitude 
of  republics.  But  if  we  have  erected  no  columns,  nor  statues, 
to  the  memory  of  our  first  great  man,  we  have  manifested  our 
gratitude  for  the  services  he  rendered  us,  and  the  hearty  ap- 
preciation of  his  character,  which  is  universal  among  us,  in  a 
better,  more  affectionate  and  enduring  manner.  We  name 
our  towns,  counties,  ships,  children,  and  institutions  after  him. 
His  name  is  constantly  in  our  mouth,  and  his  benevolent  coun- 
tenance and  lofty  brow  are  as  familiar  to  us  as  the  features  of  > 
Washington.  We  have  Franklin  banks,  Franklin  insurance 
companies,  Franklin  societies,  Franklin  hotels,  Franklin 
markets,  and  even  Franklin  theatres.  One  of  our  line  of 
battle  ships  is  called  the  Franklin,  and  there  will  be  found  a 
Ben  Franklin,  the  name  affectionately  abbreviated,  on  all  our 
western  lakes  and  rivers.  The  popular  heart  cherishes  his 
memory  more  tenderly  than  that  of  any  of  our  great  men. 
Washington's  heroism  and  lofty  virtues  set  him  above  us,  so 
that  while  we  look  up  to  him  with  veneration  and  awe,  we 


66  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

hardly  feci  that  he  was  one  of  us.  His  impossible  grandeur 
forbids  the  familiar  sympathy  which  we  feel  for  our  own  kind. 
But  Franklin's  greatness  is  of  that  kind  which  makes  the 
whole  world  kin.  In  him  we  recognize  the  apotheosis  of  use- 
fulness. He  was  our  Good  Genius,  who  took  us  by  the  hand 
in  our  national  infancy,  and  taught  us  the  great  art  of  making 
the  most  of  the  world.  He  warmed  our  houses  by  the  stove 
which  still  bears  his  name,  and  protected  us  from  the  terrify- 
ing thunderbolt  by  his  simple  rod.  He  showered  upon  us  les- 
sons of  wisdom,  all  calculated  to  increase  our  happiness,  and 
his  wise  and  pithy  apothegms  have  become  an  important  part 
of  our  language.  Never  before  was  a  young  nation  blessed 
with  so  beneficent  and  generous  a  counsellor  and  guide.  The 
influence  of  Franklin  upon  the  national  character  is  beyond 
estimate.  He  taught  us  alike  by  precept  and  example;  and, 
in  his  autobiography,  he  laid  the  corner  stone  of  our  literature, 
bequeathing  us  a  book  which  will  always  be  fresh,  instructive, 
and  charming,  while  our  language  endures,  or  we  look  to  liter- 
ature for  instruction  and  entertainment. 

Franklin  was  a  pure,  unadulterated  Englishman;  he  came 
of  that  great  stock  whose  mission  it  is  to  improve  the  world. 
Though  we  claim  him,  and  justly,  as  an  American,  he  was 
born,  and  lived  the  better  part  of  his  life,  a  subject  of  the  Eng- 
lish crown.  There  was  never  a  more  thorough  Englishman, 
nor  one  whose  whole  consistent  life  more  happily  illustrated 
the  Anglo-Saxon  character,  nor  one  who  was  better  entitled  to 
be  called  an  American,  or  who  showed  a  more  lively  and  en- 
during love  for  his  native  soil.  1 

Every  schoolboy  is  familiar  with  the  history  of  Franklin  ; 
his  autobiography  is  our  national  epic  ;  it  is  more  read  than 


F  II  A  N  K  L  I  N . 


67 


Kobinson  Crusoe  ;  and  our  great  national  museum,  the  Patent 
Office,  has  been  filled  with  the  results  of  ambitious  attempts  to 
follow  in  the  path  of  the  inventor  of  the  lightning-rod.  One 
boy  reads  Kobinson  Crusoe  and  runs  off  to  sea,  while  another 
reads  Franklin's  Life  and  tries  for  a  patent,  or  begins  to  save 
a  penny  a  day,  that  he  may  have  three  hundred  pennies  at  the 
end  of  the  year.  There  are  writers  who  have  accused  Frank- 
lin of  giving  a  sordid  bias  to  our  national  character.  But  no- 
thing could  be  more  unjust.  There  is  nothing  sordid  in  the 
teachings  of  our  great  philosopher ;  while  the  example  of  his 
purely  beneficent  life  has,  doubtless,  been  the  cause  of  many 
of  the  magnificent  acts  of  private  benevolence  which  have  dis- 
tinguished our  countrymen. 

Franklin  says  in  his  autobiograjDhy,  in  reference  to  his 
stove,  which  has  warmed  so  many  generations  of  his  country- 
men, and  rendered  comfortable  so  many  American  homes  : 
"  Governor  Thomas  was  so  pleased  with  the  construction  of  this 
stove  that  he  offered  to  give  me  a  sole  patent  for  the  vending 
of  them  for  a  term  of  years ;  but  I  declined  it  from  a  principle 
which  has  ever  weighed  with  me  on  such  occasions,  viz.,  that 
as  we  enjoy  great  advantages  from  the  inventions  of  others, 
we  should  be  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  serve  others  by  an  in- 
vention of  ours  :  and  this  we  should  do  freely  and  cordially." 
No,  there  was  no  sordidness  in  the  teachings  of  Franklin. 

His  immortal  biography  was  commenced  at  the  ripe  age 
of  sixty-six,  while  he  was  in  England,  a  time  of  life  when  most 
men  have  lost  the  power  to  instruct  or  amuse  with  the  pen  ; 
but  it  has  the  ease,  the  freshness,  and  the  vigor  of  youth. 
It  was  continued  at  Passy,  in  France,  and  concluded  in  Phi- 
ladelphia.   He  was  one  of  the  few  instances  of  a  precocious 


68 


HOMES    OF    AMEEICAN  STATESMEN. 


genius  maintaining  his  powers  to  an  advanced  period  of  life. 
There  were  no  signs  of  childishness  in  his  almost  infantile 
compositions,  or  of  senility  in  his  latest  productions. 

Every  body  knows  that  the  grandfather  of  Doctor  Franklin 
was  the  sturdy  old  puritan,  Peter  Folger,  who  wrote  the  homely 
verses  which  Mr.  Sparks  doubts  the  propriety  of  calling  poetry, 
and  who  dwelt  in  "  Sherborn  Town."  The  house  in  which  he 
lived,  and  where  the  mother  of  Franklin  was  born,  was  still  in 
existence  but  a  few  years  since,  though  in  a  very  dilapidated 
condition.  We  remember  making  a  pilgrimage  to  it  in  our 
boyish  days,  after  reading  the  Life  of  Franklin,  and  wondering 
in  which  of  its  little  rooms  the  grandfather  of  the  philosopher 
sat,  when  he  penned  the  lines  which  the  grandson  thought  were 
"written  with  manly  freedom  and  a  pleasing  simplicity."  The 
house  stood  near  the  water,  at  the  head  of  a  little  cove,  or 
creek,  and  near  it  was  a  bubbling  spring,  from  which  the  mo- 
ther of  the  philosopher  must  have  often  drank.  At  that  time 
there  were  no  evidences  of  the  surrounding  grounds  having 
been  cultivated,  and  a  wretched  family  inhabited  the  ruin. 
There  are  many  descendants  of  Peter  Folger  still  living,  some 
of  whom  have  been  eminent  for  their  learning  and  talents ; 
but,  it  is  a  remarkable  circumstance,  that,  though  Franklin's 
father  and  grandfather  each  had  five  sons,  who  grew  up  to 
man's  estate,  there  is  not  one  male  descendant  living  of  that 
name.  Franklin  was  born  on  the  6th  of  January,  old  style, 
1706,  on  a  house  that  stood  on  the  corner  of  Milk-street,  op- 
posite the  old  South  Church,  Boston,  in  which  he  was  chris- 
tened. The  church  is  still  standing,  but  the  house  has  been 
demolished,  and,  in  its  place,  there  is  a  large  and  handsome 
granite  warehouse,  which  is  made  to  serve  the  double  purpose 


F  11  A  X  K  LIN. 


69 


of  a  store  and  a  monument.  On  the  frieze  of  the  cornice  is 
the  inscription  in  bold  granitic  letters,  the  birth-place  of 


Old  South  Church.  Boston. 


Fr  axklix.  We  cannot  help  thinking  that  it  is  just  such  a 
monument  as  he  would  have  recommended,  if  his  wishes  had 


70  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

been  consulted.  But  the  house  in  which  our  great  philosopher 
spent  his  earlier  years,  and  to  which  his  father  removed  soon 
after  the  birth  of  his  youngest  son,  is  still  standing,  very  nearly 
in  the  same  condition  in  which  it  was  during  his  youth.  It 
is  on  the  corner  of  flanover  and  Union  streets,  and  the 
wooden  gilt  ball  of  the  old  soap-boiler  is  still  suspended  from 
an  iron  crane,  with  the  inscription  Josias  Franklin,  1698. 
The  ball  is  the  original  one,  but  it  must  have  been  many  times 
regilt  and  relettered.  The  building  is  occupied  by  a  shoe 
dealer  in  the  lower  part,  but  the  upper  rooms  are  in  the  occu- 
pancy of  an  industrial  whose  art  had  no  existence  until  near  a 
century  after  the  death  of  Franklin's  father.  A  daguerrean 
artist  now  takes  likenesses  in  the  rooms  where  the  boy-philoso- 
pher slept,  and  sat  up  late  at  night  to  read  Defoe's  Essay  on 
Projects,  and  Plutarch's  Lives,  by  the  glimmering  light  of  one 
of  his  father's  own  dips.  It  was  here  too  that  he  read  the 
Light  House  Tragedy,  after  having  cut  wicks  all  day ;  and  it 
was  in  the  cellar  of  this  house,  too,  that  he  made  that  charac- 
teristic suggestion  to  his  father,  of  saying  grace  over  the  barrel 
of  beef,  which  he  saw  him  packing  away  for  the  winter's  use, 
to  save  the  trouble  of  a  separate  grace  over  each  piece  that 
should  be  served  up  for  dinner.  This  anecdote  may  not  be 
strictly  true,  but  it  is  perfectly  characteristic,  and  very  much 
like  one  he  tells  of  himself,  when  he  was  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  of  the  military  forces  of  Pennsylvania.  The  chaplain  of 
his  regiment  complained  to  him  that  the  men  would  not  attend 
prayers,  whereupon,  says  Franklin,  "  I  said  to  him,  '  it  is  per- 
haps below  the  dignity  of  your  profession  to  act  as  steward  of 
the  rum  ;  but  if  you  were  only  to  distribute  it  out  after  prayers 
you  would  have  them  all  about  you.'    He  liked  the  thought, 


FRANKLIN. 


71 


undertook  the  task,  and,  with  the  help  of  a  few  hands  to  mea- 
sure out  the  liquor,  executed  it  to  satisfaction,  and  never  were 
prayers  more  generally  and  more  punctually  attended." 

This  kind  of  humorous  good  sense,  was  one  of  the  marked 
peculiarities  of  his  character  ;  there  was  lurking  wit  and  hu- 
mor in  all  his  acts,  and  in  his  gravest  essays,  of  which  his  epi- 
grammatic letter  to  his  old  friend  Strahan,  the  king's  printer, 
is  a  notable  example. 

The  old  house  in  which  Franklin  spent  his  boyhood  is  now 
a  long  distance  from  the  water,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  wilder- 
ness of  brick  and  granite  buildings,  but  he  speaks  of  it  as  near 
the  shore,  and  it  was  close  by  that  he  built  the  little  wharf 
of  stolen  stones,  which  induced  his  father  to  impress  upon 
him  the  great  truth  that  "  that  which  was  not  honest  could 
not  be  truly  useful." 

Where  the  young  apprentice  lived  when  he  was  boarded 
out  by  his  brother,  and  first  "  went  in  "  to  vegetarianism,  we 
have  not  been  able  to  ascertain ;  and,  on  his  flight  from  Bos- 
ton, in  his  seventeenth  year,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  re- 
mained long  enough  in  New- York  to  have  had  a  home.  The 
first  place  he  slept  in,  in  Philadelphia,  was  a  quakcr  meeting- 
house ;  but  his  first  home  in  the  city  which  he  afterwards  ren- 
dered famous,  from  having  resided  in  it,  was  at  a  public  house 
in  Water-street,  known  as  the  Crooked  Billet;  not  a  very  sig- 
nificant sign  to  us  of  the  present  generation. 

Wherever  Franklin  went,  or  in  whatever  new  sphere  he 
applied  himself  to  business,  he  immediately  inspired  confidence 
in  his  ability,  and  gained  friends,  as  all  able  men  do.  The 
runaway  boy  of  seventeen  had  hardly  begun  to  put  Bradford's 
printing  office  in  order  when  he  was  called  upon  by  Colonel 


72  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

French,  and  Sir  William  Keith,  governor  of  the  province,  who 
invited  him  to  a  tavern,  offered  him  a  bottle  of  Madeira,  and 
proposed  to  set  him  np  in  business ;  yet  he  was  not  of  a  glib 
tongue  and  a  prepossessing  appearance. 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  made  his  first  voyage  to  London, 
and  lived  in  Little  Britain  with  his  friend  KaLph  at  a  cost  of 
three  shillings  and  sixpence  a  week.  Franklin  worked  in  Palm- 
er's famous  printing  house  in  Bartholomew  Close,  near  a  year, 
and  for  the  first  and  only  time  of  his  life  was  improvident  and  ex- 
travagant, spending  his  earnings  at  plays  and  public  amuse- 
ments, and  neglecting  to  write  to  Miss  Bead  in  Philadelphia, 
with  whom  he  had  "  exchanged  promises."  He  worked  diligent- 
ly, though,  and  during  that  time  wrote  and  published  "  A  Dis- 
sertation on  Liberty  and  Necessity,  Pleasure  and  Pain."  This 
essay  gained  him  the  friendship  of  an  author  who  took  him  to 
the  Horns,  a  pale  ale-house,  introduced  him  to  Dr.  Mandeville 
and  promised  him  a  sight  of  Newton.  He  afterwards  removed  to 
lodgings  in  Duke-street,  and  occupied  a  room  up  three  pairs  of 
stairs,  which  he  rented  of  a  widow,  who  had  an  only  daughter, 
with  whom  he  used  to  sup  on  half  an  anchovy,  a  very  small  slice 
of  bread  and  butter,  and  half  a  pint  of  ale  between  them.  He 
remained  eighteen  months  in  England,  and  returned  to  Phila- 
delphia with  the  expectation  of  entering  into  mercantile  busi- 
ness with  his  friend  Denman. 

It  was  during  his  voyage  from  London  to  Philadelphia 
that  he  wrote  out  the  plan  for  regulating  his  future  conduct, 
which,  he  says,  he  had  adhered  to  through  life.  The  plan  has 
not  been  preserved,  but  we  have  the  life  which  was  conformed 
to  it,  and  can  easily  conceive  what  it  was. 

Fortunately  for  mankind  his  friend  Denman  died  soon 


FRANKLIN. 


73 


after  the  return  of  Franklin  to  Philadelphia,  whereby  his 
mercantile  projects  were  frustrated,  and  he  was  compelled  to 
return  to  his  trade  of  printing ;  he  was  just  turned  of  twenty- 
one,  and  not  finding  employment  as  a  merchant's  clerk,  he  un- 
dertook the  charge  of  his  former  employer's  printing  office. 
Here  his  inventive  genius  was  taxed,  for  he  had  to  make  both 
types  and  ink,  as  they  could  not  be  procured  short  of  London. 
He  also  engraved  the  copper  plates,  from  his  own  designs,  for 
the  paper  money  of  New  J ersey,  and  constructed  the  first  cop- 
per plate  press  that  had  been  seen  in  the  country.  He  could 
not  long  remain  in  the  employment  of  another,  and,  before  the 
end  of  the  year,  had  established  himself  in  business  as  a  print- 
er, in  partnership  with  his  friend  Meredith.  His  life  now 
commenced  in  earnest,  he  was  his  own  master,  and  held  his 
fortune  in  his  own  hands;  he  had  already  discerned  "that 
truth,  sincerity,  and  integrity,  were  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  the  felicity  of  life ; "  and  day  by  day  his  genius  ripened  and 
his  noblo  character  was  developed.  In  the  year  1730,  he  was 
married  to  Miss  Eead,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Library ;  the  first  public  library  that  had  been  com- 
menced in  the  country.  The  two  succeeding  years  of  his  life 
were  not  marked  by  any  striking  event,  but  they  wTere,  per- 
haps, the  two  most  important  in  his  history,  as  during  that 
time  he  schooled  himself  to  virtue  by  a  systematic  course  of 
conduct,  the  particulars  of  which  he  has  given  in  his  biogra- 
phy. At  the  end  of  this  period  he  commenced  his  "  Poor 
Kichard's  Almanac,"  the  publication  of  which  was  continued 
by  him  twenty-five  years.  It  was  the  first  successful  attempt 
in  authorship  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  His  first  "  promo- 
tion," as  he  calls  it,  meaning  his  first  public  employment,  was 


74 


H  0  M  E  S    ()  F    A  M  R  RICA  N    S  T  A  T  E  S  M  E  N  . 


on  being  chosen  Clerk  of  the  General  Assembly;  anil  the 
next  year  he  was  appointed  Postmaster  at  Philadelphia.  His 
private  business  all  the  time  increased ;  he  founded  societies 
for  philosophical  purposes;  continued  to  publish  his  paper; 
wrote  innumerable  pamphlets;  was  elected  colonel  of  a  regi- 
ment ;  invented  his  stove,  and  engaged  in  all  manner  of  bene- 
ficial projects  ;  he  established  hospitals  and  academies,  made 
treaties  with  the  Indians,  became  Postmaster  General,  and 
after  devising  means  for  cleaning  the  streets  of  Philadelphia, 
turned  his  attention  to  those  of  London  and  Westminster. 


FRANKLIN. 


75 


But,  it  is  with  the  "  Homes  "  of  Franklin  that  our  limited 
space  must  be  occupied,  and  not  with  his  life  and  actions. 
Although  he  occupied,  at  various  times,  almost  as  many  different 
houses  as  there  are  headquarters  of  Washington,  yet  there  are 
few  of  them  now  left ;  living  always  in  cities,  the  houses  he  in- 
habited have  been  destroyed  by  the  irresistible  march  of  im- 
provement. In  his  fifty-first  year,  he  was  sent  to  London  by  the 
General  Assembly  to  present  a  petition  to  the  king,  and  to  act 
as  the  agent  of  Pennsylvania  in  England.  He  sailed  from  New- 
York  and  arrived  in  London  in  July,  1757,  and  at  this  point 
of  his  life  his  autobiography  ends.  From  an  original  letter  of 
his  in  our  possession,  written  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  from 
Philadelphia,  he  directs  that  letters  must  be  sent  to  him  in 
London  at  the  Pennsylvania  Coffee  House,  in  Birchin  Lane, 
where  he  doubtless  lived  on  his  first  arrival,  but  his  permanent 
home  in  London,  during  fifteen  years,  was  at  Mrs.  Stevenson's 
in  Craven-street.  He  travelled  much  in  Great  Britain  and  on 
the  continent,  was  present  at  the  coronation  of  George  III.,  and 
returned  to  America  in  1762,  having  stopped  awhile  at  Ma- 
deira on  the  voyage.  He  went  to  England  again  in  1764,  and 
after  a  brilliant  and  most  serviceable  career  abroad,  returned  to 
liis  native  home  in  season  to  sign  his  name  to  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  giving  a  greater  weight  of  personal  chamcter, 
and  a  more  potent  popular  influence  to  the  cause  than  any  other 
of  the  immortal  participators  in  that  glorious  act.  He  died  in 
the  year  1790,  on  the  17th  of  April,  at  11  o'clock  at  night,  in 
his  85th  year,  in  his  house  in  Market-street,  Philadelphia,  which 
he  had  built  for  his  own  residence.  His  remains  lie  by  the 
side  of  his  wife's,  in  the  burying  ground  of  Christ  Church, 


78 


II  0  M  K  S    OF    A  M  E  K  IC  A  N    STATES!!  E  N  . 


covered  by  a  simple  marble  slab,  in  conformity  with  his  direc- 
tions. There  is  a  small  granite  pyramid  in  the  Granary  bury- 
ing ground  in  Boston,  which  the  economical  citizens  make  do 
double  duty,  as  a  memorial  of  the  greatest  name  of  which 
their  city  can  boast,  and  a  monument  to  his  parents. 


JEFFERSON. 


JEFFERSON  would  have  been  a  notable  man  in  any  coun- 
try and  any  age,  because  he  possessed  both  genius  and 
character.  Without  the  former  he  could  never  have  succeed- 
ed, as  he  did,  in  moulding  the  opinions  of  his  contemporaries 
and  successors,  and  without  the  latter,  he  would  not  have  been, 
as  he  was,  bitterly  hated  by  his  enemies  and  cordially  loved  by 
his  friends.  His  genius,  however,  was  not  of  that  kind  which 
in  the  ardor  of  its  inspiration  intoxicates  the  judgment  ;  nor 


80  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

was  his  character,  on  the  other  hand,  of  the  sort  which 
moves  an  admiration  so  profound,  unquestioning  and  univer- 
sal, as  to  disarm  the  antagonism  its  very  excellence  pro- 
vokes. There  was  enough  error  and  frailty,  therefore,  min- 
gled with  his  eminent  qualities  both  of  mind  and  heart,  to  in- 
volve him  in  seeming  contradictions,  and  to  expose  his  life  to 
double  construction  and  controversy.  At  the  same  time,  it 
has  happened  to  him  as  it  has  often  happened  in  human  his- 
tory, that  the  hostility  awakened  by  his  acts  during  his  life, 
has  dwindled  with  the  laj>se  of  time,  while  his  fame  has  grown 
brighter  and  broader  with  every  renewal  of  the  decisions  of 
posterity.  No  man,  we  may  now  safely  say,  who  has  figured 
on  the  theatre  of  events  in  this  country,  with  the  single  ex- 
ception of  Washington,  occupies  a  larger  share  of  the  venera- 
tion of  Americans. 

He  was  born  at  Shadwell,  in  Albemarle  county,  Virginia, 
in  1743.  His  father,  dying  when  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  left 
him  a  large  inheritance.  He  was  educated  at  the  College  of 
William  and  Mary,  studied  law  under  the  celebrated  George 
Wythe,  began  the  practice  of  it  in  1767,  and  in  1769  was 
chosen  a  member  of  the  provincial  legislature,  where  his  first 
movement — an  unsuccessful  one — was  for  the  emancipation  of 
the  slaves.  But  a  greater  question  soon  engrossed  Iris  mind. 
Already  a  sj^irit  of  ojoposition  had  been  excited  in  the  colonies 
to  the  arbitrary  measures  of  the  parliament  of  Great  Britain, — 
that  very  legislature  was  dissolved  by  the  Governor,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  symj>athy  displayed  by  its  leading  members  with 
the  patriotic  proceedings  of  Massachusetts, — it  appealed  to 
the  constituency,  and  was  triumphantly  returned, — and  then 
in  1773,  its  more  active  spirits  organized,  in  a  room  of  a  tavern 


JEFFERSON.  81 

at  Raleigh,  a  system  of  correspondence,  designed  to  inflame 
the  zeal  and  unite  the  efforts  of  the  colonists  against  the  en- 
croachments of  power.  As  a  result  of  this  activity,  a  conven- 
tion was  called  in  Virginia  for  the  purpose  of  choosing  dele- 
gates to  a  more  general  Congress.  J efferson  was  a  member  of 
it,  but  not  being  able,  on  account  of  ill-health,  to  attend,  drew 
up  a  paper  on  the  Eights  of  British  America,  which  the  con- 
vention did  not  adopt,  but  which  it  published  ;  "  the  leap  he 
proposed,"  as  he  says,  "  being  too  long  for  the  mass  of  the 
citizens," — and  which  Edmund  Burke  in  England  caused  to  run 
through  several  editions.  The  pamphlet  procured  him  rejmta- 
tion,  and  the  more  honorable  distinction  of  having  his  name 
placed  in  a  bill  of  attainder,  moved  in  one  of  the  houses  of  Par- 
liament. Thus  early  was  he  identified  with  the  champions  of 
liberty  in  the  new  world. 

In  1775,  Jefferson  took  his  seat  for  the  first  time  in  the 
Continental  Congress,  whither  he  carried  the  same  decided 
and  liberal  tone  which  had  marked  his  legislative  efforts.  He 
was  soon  appointed  on  the  most  important  committees,  and 
especially  on  that,  which,  on  the  motion  of  the  delegates  of 
Virginia,  was  raised  to  prepare  a  Declaration  of  Independence 
for  the  colonies.  It  was  a  measure  carried  only  after  a  strenu- 
ous and  hot  debate,  but  it  was  finally  carried  by  a  large  ma- 
jority ;  and  to  Jefferson  was  assigned  the  task,  by  his  associ- 
ates, of  preparing  the  document  destined  to  inaugurate  a  new 
era  in  the  history  of  mankind.  How  he  executed  the  duty  the 
world  knows ;  for  this  paper  became  the  charter  of  freedom  to 
a  whole  continent ;  and  annually  to  this  day,  millions  of  peo- 
ple read  it  with  gratitude,  reverence,  joy,  and  praise  to  God. 
For  a  second  time,  then,  we  behold  our  Jefferson,  a  chosen 


82 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


champion  of  liberty,  linking  his  name,  not  with  a  bill  of  at- 
tainder this  time,  but  with  the  most  signal  event  in  the  destiny 
of  his  country, — and  one,  second  to  none  m  the  political  fortunes 
of  humanity. 

The  Declaration  proclaimed,  Mr.  J efferson  retired  from  his 
place  in  the  Congress  to  resume  his  seat  in  the  legislature  of 
his  native  State  ;  where,  an  imperfect  Constitution  having 
been  adopted,  during  his  absence,  he  was  immediately  involved 
in  the  most  indefatigable  labors  for  its  reform.  In  connection 
with  Wythe,  Mason,  Pendleton,  and  Lee,  he  prepared  no  less 
than  136  different  acts,  from  which  were  derived  all  the  most 
liberal  features  of  the  existing  laws  of  the  Commonwealth. 
They  laid  the  foundation,  in  fact,  of  the  code  of  Virginia, — as 
a  mere  monument  of  industry,  they  were  a  most  extraordinary 
work,  but  when  we  consider  the  importance  of  some  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  legislation  which  they  introduced,  sufficient  in  them- 
selves to  have  immortalized  the  name  of  any  man.  Among 
these  principles,  were  provisions  for  the  abrogation  of  the  laws 
of  entail  and  primogeniture,  for  the  establishment  of  religious 
freedom,  for  a  complete  amelioration  of  the  criminal  code,  in- 
cluding the  abolition  of  capital  punishments  in  all  cases,  ex- 
cept of  treason  and  murder,  for  the  emancipation,  at  a  certain 
age,  of  all  slaves  born  after  the  passage  of  the  act,  for  the  divi- 
sion of  the  counties  into  wards  and  towns,  and  the  establish- 
ment thereby  of  free  municipal  institutions,  and  for  the  intro- 
duction of  a  system  of  popular  education,  providing  for  schools  in 
each  town,  academies  in  each  county,  and  a  University  for  the 
State.  The  three  first  were  carried  into  effect ;  but  the  others, 
in  consequence  of  his  personal  absence  on  other  duties,  failed. 
But  what  a  different  destiny  would  have  been  that  of  Virginia 


JEFFERSON. 


83 


if  they  had  not  foiled  !  How  intrepid,  too,  the  mind  which 
could  conceive  and  urge  such  measures  at  that  time !  So- 
ciety in  Virginia  was  then  divided  into  three  classes,  the 
land  and  slave-owners,  the  yeomanry,  and  the  laboring  people. 
J efferson  was  by  birth  and  position  of  the  first  class,  but  his 
chief  associations  had  been  among  the  second  class,  while  his 
sympathies  were  with  the  third  class,  or  rather  with  all  classes- 
Had  his  suggestions  been  adopted,  these  distinctions  would 
have  been  destroyed,  and  Virginia  raised  to  the  first  place 
among  the  free  nations  of  the  earth.  Thus,  for  a  third  time, 
we  find  J  efferson  among  the  foremost  advocates  of  the  liberty 
and  advancement  of  the  people. 

In  1779  he  was  chosen  the  successor  of  Patrick  Henry,  as 
the  Governor  of  the  State  ;  but  war  having  been  declared,  and 
a  military  invasion  being  at  hand,  he  resigned  the  position  on 
account  of  his  want  of  military  talents,  in  favor  of  General 
Nelson.  He  had  barely  time  to  escape  with  his  family  before 
the  enemy  entered  his  house.  Congress  twice  solicited  him  to 
go  abroad,  first  to  negotiate  a  peace,  and  then  a  treaty  of  alli- 
ance and  commerce  with  France,  but  as  "  the  laboring  oar," 
in  his  own  language,  "  was  at  home,"  it  was  not  until  the  year 
1782,  when  the  assurance  that  a  general  peace  would  be  con- 
cluded, became  stronger,  that  he  consented  to  quit  his  country. 
The  preliminary  articles  of  a  peace,  however,  were  received  be- 
fore the  time  of  his  departure,  and  the  objects  of  his  mission 
being  thus  accomplished,  he  was  again  chosen  to  Congress  in 
1783. 

The  great  question  then,  was  the  formation  of  a  better  gov- 
ernment for  the  colonies,  than  the  weak  and  ill-jointed  confed- 
eration of  the  time  had  afforded.  Jefferson  was  prejwed  to  enter 


84  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

into  its  discussion  with  ardor,  bringing  to  the  task  that  keen 
sagacity  and  that  stern  republican  spirit,  which  were  among 
his  chief  characteristics,  when  he  was  joined  to  Adams  and 
Franklin  in  a  commission  for  negotiating  treaties  of  commerce 
with  foreign  nations.  He  arrived  in  Paris  in  June  of  1785. 
His  practical  insight  into  affairs,  his  vast  information,  and  his 
determined  will,  made  him  a  valuable  acquisition  even  to  the 
distinguished  abilities  of  his  colleagues.  His  labors  were  in- 
cessant, and  yet  he  found  time  to  participate,  as  far  as  his 
diplomatic  functions  allowed,  in  the  stirring  and  brilliant 
scenes  then  going  forward  on  the  theatre  of  Europe.  The 
part  that  he  had  performed  in  the  great  battles  for  liberty  in 
America,  attracted  towards  him  the  regards  and  the  confidence 
of  all  the  prominent  actors  of  the  revolutionary  drama  of 
France.  It  was  at  his  house  that  the  patriots  most  frequently 
met ;  it  was  in  his  house  that  the  Declaration  of  Eights  which 
preceded  the  first  French  Constitution  was  drafted ;  it  was  at  his 
house  that  the  First  Constitution  was  proposed ;  it  was  from 
him  that  Lafayette  received  many  of  his  best  and  noblest  im- 
pulses, and  to  him  that  the  earlier  leaders  of  the  struggle 
looked  for  sjmipathy,  concurrence,  and  direction.  In  after 
years,  in  the  bitter  political  contests  of  the  day,  it  was  a  topic 
of  reproach  that  he  was  under  French  influence,  but  the  truth 
was,  as  some  one  has  sagaciously  remarked,  that  the  French 
had  been  brought  under  an  American  influence.  He  simply 
continued  to  be  abroad  what  he  had  always  been  at  home,  the 
pioneer  and  consistent  friend  of  j)opular  rights, — the  unflinch- 
ing supporter  of  popular  liberty. 

It  was  during  this  interval  of  absence  in  Europe,  that  the 
controversy  in  respect  to  a  better  constitution  of  government 


JEFFERSON. 


85 


for  the  colonies,  to  which  we  have  just  alluded,  was  brought  to 
a  head.  There  had  always  been  a  substantial  union  between 
them,  founded  upon  contiguous  geographical  position  and 
their  common  interests,  as  well  as  their  community  of  origin, 
languages,  laws  and  religion,  which  the  common  danger  of  the 
Kevolution  had  served  to  strengthen  and  cement.  But  as  yet 
their  political  union  was  inchoate  and  fragile.  It  was  a  sim- 
ple improvement  upon  the  classical  confederacies  of  history, 
such  as  had  prevailed  in  ancient  Greece,  on  the  plains  of 
Etrusca,  before  Borne  was,  among  the  dikes  of  Holland,  or  along 
the  declivities  of  the  Swiss  Alps, — and  such  as  Montesquieu 
and  the  accepted  writers  praised  as  the  perfection  of  political  ar- 
rangement, clear  of  all  defects,  and  secure  from  foreign  violence 
and  domestic  weakness.  Yet,  in  the  practice  of  the  New 
World,  it  had  not  justified  the  praises  of  the  theorists,  for  a 
fatal  vice,  an  alarming  and  radical  weakness  had  been  developed 
in  its  want  of  due  centripetal  force.  In  other  words,  it  was 
rather  a  conglomerate  than  a  united  whole,  and  the  difficulty  of 
the  new  problem  which  it  raised  consisted  in  the  proper  ad- 
justment of  the  federal  and  central  with  the  State  and  local 
authority.  Parties  were,  of  course,  immediately  formed  on 
the  question  of  the  true  solution  of  it,  the  one  favoring  a  strong 
central  power,  taking  the  name  of  Federalist  ;  and  the  other, 
disposed  to  adhere  to  the  separate  sovereignty  and  indepen- 
dence of  the  States,  taking  the  name  of  Anti-Federalist.  In 
the  end,  the  Constitution  actually  adopted,  a  work  only 
second  in  importance  to  the  Kevolution  itself,  or  more  pro- 
perly the  constructive  completion  of  it,  was  a  compromise  be- 
tween the  two,  although  the  original  parties  still  maintained 
their  relative  positions,  as  the  friends  and  foes  of  a  preponder- 
ating general  government. 


86  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Jefferson  inclined  to  the  anti-federalists,  but  not  being  in 
the  midst  of  the  debate,  was  scarcely  mingled  with  its  more 
exciting  quarrels.  It  is  hard  to  say,  what  shape,  or  whether 
a  different  shape  at  all,  would  have  been  given  to  the  instru- 
ment of  union,  had  he  been  at  home  to  take  part  in  its  forma- 
tion. We  think  it  probable,  however,  that  his  immense  per- 
sonal influence,  combined  with  his  sharp  forecast  and  decen- 
tralizing tendency,  would  have  succeeded  in  modifying  its  more 
aristocratic  and  conservative  features,  especially  in  regard  to  the 
absorbing  power  of  the  Executive  and  the  irresponsible  tenure 
of  the  Judiciary.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  choice  of  him  by 
Washington,  in  1789,  for  the  post  of  the  first  Secretary  of 
State,  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  exercising  his  talents  and 
manifesting  his  disposition,  in  the  organization  of  the  new  ex- 
periment. 

There  were  two  antagonisms  which  he  found  it  necessary 
at  the  outset  to  meet ;  first,  the  tendency  to  federal  absorp- 
tion, and  second,  the  reliance  upon  law  rather  than  liberty, 
both  embodied  in  the  person  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  the  Secre- 
tary of  the  Treasury,  a  man  of  genius,  of  energy,  of  sincere 
convictions,  and  the  confidant  of  Washington.  The  two  men 
were,  therefore,  speedily  self-placed  in  strong  opposition.  .Ham- 
ilton had  been  educated  in  a  military  school,  he  admired  the 
British  Constitution,  and,  though  he  was  an  earnest  patriot, 
as  his  efficient  services  in  the  war,  and  his  masterly  vindica- 
tions of  the  Constitution  had  proved,  he  cherished  a  secret  dis- 
trust of  the  people.  Jefferson,  on  the  other  hand,  had  sym- 
pathized all  his  life  with  the  multitude,  approved,  or  rather  had 
anticipated,  the  French  philosophy,  which  was  then  in  vogue, 
disliked  the  English  models  of  government,  and  was  sanguine 


JEFFERSON. 


87 


of  the  future.  It  was  inevitable,  consequently,  that  the  oppo- 
sition of  such  men,  both  able,  both  decided,  both  earnest  in 
their  plans,  should  widen  into  an  almost  irreconcilable  hostility. 
In  1793,  Jefferson  resigned,  but  not  until,  by  his  reports  to 
Congress  on  the  currency,  the  fisheries,  weights  and  measures, 
and  by  his  correspondence  with  foreign  ministers,  he  had  placed 
his  department  on  a  level  with  the  Foreign  Offices  of  the  older 
nations.  It  is  to  him  that  we  are  indebted  for  our  decimal 
coinage,  and  through  him,  as  Mr.  Webster,  a  competent  and 
not  too  friendly  judge,  has  confessed,  our  diplomatic  inter- 
course was  raised  to  a  dignity  and  strength  which  will  bear 
comparion  with  any  that  other  governments  can  produce. 

In  1797  Jefferson  was  called  from  his  retirement  to  act  as 
Vice-President  of  the  United  States, — a  place  of  not  much 
practical  efficiency,  but  which  he  illustrated  by  compiling  a 
manual  of  Parliamentary  Practice,  which  has  ever  since  been 
the  standard  by  which  the  proceedings  of  legislative  bodies  in 
this  country  are  regulated.  There  was  no  position,  indeed, 
which  he  does  not  appear  to  have  been  able  to  turn  to  some 
advantage  to  his  country  and  his  fellow-men. 

At  the  close  of  his  term  as  Vice-President,  he  was  chosen 
President, — a  choice  in  which  a  final  blow  was  given  to  the 
doctrines  of  Federalism,  and  the  democratic  republic  finally  in- 
augurated. "We  shall  not,  however,  enter  into  the  contests  of 
that  period,  nor  attempt  to  detail  the  measures  of  his  adminis- 
tration. They  are  subjects  for  history,  not  for  an  outline  like 
this  we  sketch.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  aspirations  of  the 
people  were  not  disappointed  by  the  results  of  his  action.  He 
rescued  the  functions  of  government  from  the  improper  direc- 
tion which  had  been  given  to  them,  he  organized  strength 


88  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

through  simplicity,  he  almost  clouhled  the  territory  of  the 
Union,  he  caused  the  vast  regions  of  the  west,  now  the  seat  of 
populous  empire,  to  be  explored,  he  gave  us  character  abroad, 
and  maintained  tranquillity  at  home, — and,  last  of  all,  against 
the  solicitation  of  his  friends,  with  a  popular  prestige  that 
would  have  carried  him  in  triumph  through  a  third  or  fourth 
term  of  office,  even  to  the  close  of  his  days,  he  consecrated  for 
ever  the  example  of  Washington,  by  resigning,  as  that  great 
man  had  done,  at  the  end  of  eight  years. 

These  are  the  simple  facts  of  Jefferson's  active  career,  and 
they  need  no  comment.  They  present  a  character  obviously  too 
transparent  to  allow  of  much  mistake.  All  his  life  points  to  a 
few  simple  but  great  objects.  By  his  sanguine  temperament,  his 
keen  insight,  his  quick  and  cherishing  sympathies,  his  strong 
love  of  justice,  his  kindly  visions  of  the  future,  he  was  made  a 
democrat ;  and,  under  no  circumstances  could  he  have  been  any 
thing  else.  He  hated  tyranny,  he  loved  truth,  and  he  was 
not  afraid  of  man  ;  how  then  could  he  avoid  becoming  what  he 
was,  the  apostle  of  freedom,  author  of  the  Statutes  of  Virginia 
and  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  founder  of  the  republican 
party,  a  name  of  power  to  future  generations  which  have 
scarcely  yet  come  up  to  the  greatness  and  breadth  of  Iris  en- 
lightened opinions  ?  Errors  of  conduct  he  may  have  com- 
mitted, for  who  is  perfect  ?  impracticable  views  he  may  have 
enunciated,  for  who  is  all-wise  ?  but  the  glory  of  his  achieve- 
ments is  an  imperishable  remembrance  of  his  countrymen, 
illustrating  their  history  to  all  nations  and  to  all  times.  "  A 
superior  and  commanding  intellect/'  it  has  been  eloquently 
said,  "  is  not  a  temporary  flame  burning  brightly  for  a  while, 
and  then  giving  place  to  returning  darkness.    It  is  rather  a 


JEFFERSON. 


89 


spark  of  fervent  heat,  as  well  as  radiant  light,  with  power  to 
enkindle  the  common  mass  of  human  mind  ;  so  that  when  it 
glimmers  in  its  own  decay,  and  finally  goes  out  in  death,  no 
night  follows,  hut  it  leaves  the  world  all  light,  all  on  fire,  from 
the  potent  contact  of  its  own  spirit." 

The  retirement  of  Mr.  Jefferson  at  Monticello  was  passed 
in  the  cultivation  of  his  estate,  in  the  pursuit  of  letters,  in 
cheerful  intercourse  with  friends,  in  the  duties  of  a  liberal  hos- 
pitality, and  in  advancing  his  favorite  project  of  a  University 
of  Virginia.  His  notes  on  Virginia,  and  his  contributions  to 
scientific  periodicals,  together  with,  his  extensive  correspond- 
ence, had  Drought  him  to  the  acquaintance  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished scientific  men  of  the  world,  and  his  eminent  politi- 
cal services  had  made  him  known  to  statesmen.  His  house 
was,  therefore,  always  thronged  with  visitors,  who,  attracted 
by  his  fame,  were  charmed  by  his  conversation,  astonished  by 
his  learning,  and  warmed  into  love  by  the  unaffected  kindli- 
ness of  his  deportment.  A  beautiful  retirement,  full  of  gran- 
deur, of  simplicity,  of  dignity  and  repose  !  A  patriarch  of  the 
nation  which  he  had  helped  to  found,  and  which  he  lived  to 
see  in  a  condition  of  unparalleled  advancement, — illustrious  in 
two  hemispheres, — his  name  connected  with  events  that  in- 
troduced a  new  era  in  the  history  of  his  race, — surrounded 
by  the  grateful  admiration  of  growing  millions  of  people  ;  his 
old  age  was  passed  in  the  serenest  contentment,  amid  the 
blandishments  of  literature  and  science,  the  interchanges  of 
friendly  offices,  and  in  useful  labor  in  the  library  or  on  the 
farm. 

Monticello,  which  is  the  name  which  Mr.  Jefferson  had 
given  to  his  home,  was  built  in  one  of  the  most  enchanting 


90 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


regions  of  Virginia.  u  It  seemed  designed  by  nature,"  says  a 
writer,  "  as  the  very  seat  from  which,  lifted  above  the  world's 
turmoil,  one  who  has  exhausted  what  it  can  bestow  of  emi- 
nence, might  look  down,  withdrawn  from  its  personal  troubles, 
but  contemplating  at  leisure  the  distant  animation  of  the 
scene.  It  was  a  place  scarcely  less  fit  for  the  visionary  abode 
of  the  philoso}3hic  speculatist,  than  by  its  far-spread  and  shift- 
ing beauties  of  landscapes  to  inspire  a  poet  with  perpetual  de- 
light." On  a  spire  of  the  romantic  Blue  Kidge,  whose  varying 
outlines  stretch  away  from  it  till  they  are  lost  to  the  sight, 
with  a  sylvan  scene  of  unsurpassed  loveliness  in  the  vale  below, 
the  quiet  Eivanna  meandering  through  rich  fields  on  one  side, 
the  pleasant  village  of  Charlotteville  dotting  the  other,  while 
the  porticoes  and  domes  of  the  University  rise  in  the  distance 
behind,  it  overlooked  a  combination  of  natural  pictures  that 
are  rarely  found  in  one  spot. 

"  The  country,"  says  the  visitor  we  have  just  quoted,  "  is 
not  flat,  but  a  gently  waving  one ;  yet,  from  above  and  afar, 
its  inequalities  of  surface  vanish  into  a  map-like  smoothness, 
and  are  traceable  only  in  the  light  and  shade  cast  by  hill  and 
plain.  The  prospect  here  has  a  diameter  of  near  a  hundred 
miles  :  its  scope  is  therefore  such  that  atmospheric  effects  are 
constantly  flickering  over  it,  even  in  the  most  cloudless  days 
of  a  climate  as  bright  if  not  quite  so  soft  as  that  of  Italy  ;  and 
thus  each  varying  aspect  of  the  weather  is  reflected,  all  the 
while,  from  the  features  of  the  landscape,  as  the  passions  are 
over  the  face  of  some  capricious  beauty,  that  laughs,  and 
frowns,  and  weeps  almost  in  the  same  breath.  Near  you,  per- 
haps, all  is  smiling  in  the  sunlight ;  yonder  broods  or  bursts  a 
storm ;  while,  in  a  third  quarter,  darkness  and  light  contend 


JEFFERSON. 


91 


upon  the  prospect,  and  chase  each  other.  The  sky  itself  is 
thus  not  more  shifting  than  the  scene  you  may  have  before 
you.  It  takes  a  new  aspect  at  almost  every  moment,  and  be- 
witches you  with  a  perpetual  novelty." 

The  mansion  of  the  philosopher  was  placed  on  the  top  of 
an  eminence  commanding  this  beautiful  scene.  It  was  some- 
what fantastic  in  its  architecture,  owing  to  the  additions  and 
rebuildings  that  had  been  constantly  going  on,  to  adapt  it  to 
the  enlarged  wants  and  changing  tastes  of  the  occupant,  but 
it  was  spacious,  richly  furnished  and  commodious.  The  rarest 
treasures  of  literature  adorned  the  library,  and  indeed  every 
part  bore  witness  to  the  affluence  and  cultivated  pursuits  of 
the  venerable  sage.  A  farm  of  some  fourteen  thousand  acres 
lay  about  among  the  hills,  which  was  laboriously  and  carefully 
husbanded,  and  which  gave  employment  in  various  ways  to  a 
number  of  artificers  and  mechanics,  whose  dwellings  were  dis- 
tributed about  the  slopes.  His  estate,  in  short,  was  a  small 
and  almost  independent  community  in  itself,  capable  of  sup- 
plying the  ordinary  needs  and  even  the  luxuries  of  a  highly 
civilized  condition  of  social  existence.  As  a  proof  of  this,  we 
may  state  by  the  way,  that  the  carriage  of  the  proprietor,  as 
well  as  many  of  the  tools  and  implements  in  daily  use,  had 
been  manufactured  on  the  premises.  But  the  wonder  of  the 
place  was  the  library,  which  was  not  only  extensive,  but  ex- 
tensively rich  in  its  rare  possessions,  which  the  master  had 
seduously  collected  during  his  long  residence  abroad  from  every 
nook  and  corner  of  Europe.  Unfortunately  many  of  these 
books,  afterwards  presented  to  Congress,  were  burned  in  the 
conflagration  of  the  Capitol.  Of  the  man  himself,  a  guest, 
who  was  any  thing  but  an  admirer,  has  left  this  record. 


92  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

u  Dressed,  within  doors,  as  I  saw  him  last,  no  longer  in  the 
red  "breeches,  which  were  once  famous  as  his  favorite  and  ra- 
ther conspicuous  attire  ;  hut  still  vindicating  hy  a  sanguine 
waistcoat  his  attachment  to  that  Kepuhlican  color ;  in  gray 
shorts,  small  silver  kneehuckles,  gray  woollen  stockings,  hlack 
slippers,  a  hlue  hody-coat,  surmounted  hy  a  gray  spencer  ;  tall, 
and  though  lithe  of  jDerson  and  decidedly  graceful  and  agile  of 
motion  and  carriage,  yet  long  and  ill-limhed,  Mr.  Jefferson's 
figure  was  commanding  and  striking,  though  had,  and  his  face 
most  animated  and  agreeahle,  although  remarkably  ugly.  His 
legs,  by  no  means  shunned  observation ;  yet  they  were  scarcely 
larger  at  the  knee  than  in  the  ankle,  and  had  never  been  con- 
scious of  a  calf.  Still,  though  without  strength,  they  had  al- 
ways borne  him  along  with  vigor  and  suppleness.  These  bodily 
qualities  and  a  health  almost  unfailing,  he  preserved,  in  a  sin- 
gular degree,  to  the  very  close  of  his  long  life.  At  the  time  I 
speak  of,  when  he  was  in  his  eighty-first  year,  he  not  only 
mounted  his  horse  without  assistance  and  rode  habitually  some 
ten  miles  a  day,  but,  dismounting  at  a  fence  breast-high,  wo  aid 
leap  over  it,  by  only  placing  his  hand  on  the  topmost  rail.  He 
walked  not  only  well  and  swiftly,  but  with  a  lightness  and 
springiness  of  tread,  such  as  few  young  men  even  have.  It  was 
a  restless  activity  of  mind,  which  informed  all  this  unusual 
mobility  of  body  ;  and  the  two,  I  think,  were,  in  him,  greatly 
alike.  For  his  intellect  had,  like  his  person,  more  size  than 
shape,  more  adroitness  than  force,  more  suppleness  than  so- 
lidity, and  affected  its  ends  by  continuity  of  action  not  mass 
of  power,  by  manipulation  not  muscularity.  You  may  batter 
to  pieces  with  a  small  hammer  that  which  a  cannon-ball  would 
not  shiver.    He  was  never  idle :  nay,  hardly  a  moment  still. 


JEFFERSON.  93 

He  rose  early  and  was  up  late,  through  his  life  ;  and  was  all 
day,  whenever  not  on  foot  or  a-horse-back,  at  study,  at  work, 
or  in  conversation.  If  his  legs  and  fingers  were  at  rest,  his 
tongue  would  sure  to  be  a-going.  Indeed,  even  when  seated 
in  his  library  in  a  low  Spanish,  chair,  he  held  forth  to  his  visit- 
ors in  an  almost  endless  flow  of  fine  discourse,  his  body  seemed 
as  impatient  of  keeping  still  as  his  mind,  it  shifted  its  position 
incessantly,  and  so  twisted  itself  about  that  you  might  almost 
have  thought  he  was  attitudinizing.  Meantime,  his  face,  ex- 
pressive as  it  was  ugly,  was  not  much  less  busy  than  his  limbs, 
in  bearing  its  part  in  the  conversation,  and  kept  up,  all  the 
while,  the  most  speaking  by-play,  an  eloquence  of  the  coun- 
tenance as  great  as  ugly  features  could  well  have.  It  stood  to 
his  conversation  like  the  artful  help  of  well-imagined  illustra- 
tions to  the  text  of  a  book :  a  graphic  commentary  on  every 
word,  that  was  as  convincing  to  the  eyes  as  was  his  discourse 
to  the  ears.  The  impression  which  it  conveyed  was  a  strong 
auxiliary  of  all  he  uttered  :  for  it  begat  in  you  an  almost  un- 
avoidable persuasion  of  his  sincerity." 

Jefferson's  conversation  is  described  as  the  most  agreeable 
and  brilliant  of  his  day  ;  but  was  it  this  which  gave  him  his  per- 
sonal power  ?  He  was  not  in  other  respects  a  man  of  any  pre- 
eminent personal  qualities  ;  he  did  not  possess  commanding 
military  skill ;  he  was  no  orator,  having  seldom  spoken  in  pub- 
he  ;  and  though  a  good  writer,  he  was  not  particularly  distin- 
guished in  that  line.  His  conversation,  therefore,  may  have 
helped  him  in  acquiring  a  mastery  of  the  minds  of  men  ;  but  the 
real  secret  of  his  success  consisted  in  two  things — in  his  general 
superiority  of  intellect,  and  in  his  rich,  generous,  noble  intu- 
itions.   He  saw  the  truths  and  spoke  the  words,  which  the 


94 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


world  wanted  to  see  and  hear,  at  the  right  time — a  little  in 
advance  of  his  generation,  but  not  too  much  in  advance  so  as  to 
"dwarf  himself  by  the  distance."  His  sympathetic  genius 
beat  responsive  to  the  genius  of  his  age.  His  instincts  were 
the  instincts  of  the  men  of  his  day,  more  decided  and  pro- 
nounced than  theirs,  but  still  recognized  as  a  prophecy  of  what 
they  felt  the  deepest  and  wanted  the  most.  All  the  talent, 
all  the  cunning,  all  the  selfish  calculation  of  the  world  could 
not  have  enabled  him  to  reach  the  heights  which  he  attained 
by  the  simple  and  consistent  utterance  of  his  nature.  He  con- 
quered, as  Emerson  says  in  speaking  of  the  force  of  character 
over,  and  above  mere  force  of  some  special  faculty,  because  his 
arrival  any  where  altered  the  face  of  affairs.  "  Oh,  Iole,  how 
did  you  know  that  Hercules  was  a  God  ?  "  "  Because,"  an- 
swered Iole,  "  I  was  content  the  moment  my  eyes  fell  upon 
him.  When  I  beheld  Theseus,  I  desired  that  I  might  see  him 
offer  battle,  or  at  least  guide  his  horses  in  the  chariot  race  ; 
but  Hercules  did  not  wait  for  a  contest ;  he  conquered  whether 
he  stood  or  walked,  or  sat,  or  whatever  thing  he  did." 

Happy  in  his  life,  Jefferson  was  no  less  happy  in  his  death, 
for  he  went  peacefully  to  rest  on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the 
great  day  which  he  had  done  so  much  to  make  great,  the 
J ubilee  of  our  national  freedom, — when  the  shouts  of  the  peo- 
ple, as  they  ascended  from  the  innumerable  vales,  to  his  reced- 
ing ears,  must  have  sounded  as  a  prelude  to  the  swelling  voices 
of  posterity. 


stuff  jcL 


HANCOCK. 


IN  the  mouths  of  the  people  of  New  England,  and  indeed 
throughout  the  United  States,  the  name  of  John  Hancock 
has  become  a  household  word.  In  the  State  of  Massachusetts, 
where  he  was  born,  lived,  and  died,  and  in  the  affairs  of  which 
he  took,  for  five-and-twenty  years,  so  very  active  and  leading 
a  part,  he  enjoyed  a  degree  and  a  permanence  of  popularity 
never  yet  obtained  by  any  other  man.  And  yet  we  may  ob- 
serve and  the  same  thing  may  be  noted  in  other  and  more 
recent  instances — a  remarkable  fact  that  deserves  to  be  pon- 


98  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


tiered — that  his  high  degree  of  popularity  was  not  at  all  de- 
pendent upon  any  peculiar  embodiment  or  manifestation  on 
his  part  of  the  more  prevailing  and  characteristic  traits  of  the 
community  about  him.  Indeed  the  popular  favor  which  Han- 
cock enjoyed  would  seem  to  have  been  determined,  as  the  at- 
tachment of  individuals  so  often  is,  and  as  has  happened  also 
in  other  notable  instances,  rather  by  the  attraction  of  oppo- 
sites. 

And  yet  Hancock's  line  of  descent  was  such  as  might  na- 
turally enough  have  inspired  the  expectation  of  finding  in  him 
a  good  many  more  marks  of  the  old  puritan  temper  and  man- 
ners than  he  ever  exhibited.  From  the  days  of  the  first  set- 
tlement of  New  England,  down  to  the  period  of  the  Eevolu- 
tion  and  afterwards,  the  "ministers"  constituted  a  sort  of 
clerical  nobility,  enjoying  a  very  high  degree  of  influence  and 
consideration ;  and  it  is  to  forefathers  of  that  order,  that  a 
large  part  of  the  most  distinguished  and  influential  New  Eng- 
land families  may  trace  their  origin.  The  elder  sons  of  these 
ministers,  commonly,  and  the  younger  ones  often,  were  edu- 
cated to  the  profession  of  their  fathers,  long  regarded  in  New 
England  as  the  most  certain  road  to  distinction,  whether 
spiritual  or  temporal.  But  as  the  demand  for  ministers  was 
limited,  and  as  their  families  were  generally  pretty  large,  many 
of  their  sons  found  it  necessary  to  engage  in  the  avocations  of 
civil  life,  in  which  they  not  uncommonly  attained  to  wealth 
and  high  social  positions.  Yet,  for  the  most  part,  however 
zealous  and  successful  they  might  be  in  the  pursuit  of  temporal 
objects,  they  still  continued  to  exhibit  pretty  evident  marks  of 
their  clerical  descent  and  breeding  in  a  certain  stiff,  cold,  and 
austere  gravity,  if  not,  indeed,  in  a  certain  sanctimonious  air 


HANCOCK. 


99 


even  in  the  very  act  of  concluding  the  very  tightest  and  sharp- 
est of  bargains  ; — all  the  attributes,  in  fact,  comprehensively 
and  impressively  conveyed  to  an  inhabitant  of  New  England 
by  the  title  of  Deacon,  which  office,  as  if  still  clinging  to  the 
horns  of  the  altar,  they  often  filled  ;  thus  becoming  pillars 
and  supports  of  that  church  of  which  their  fathers  had  been 
the  candlesticks. 

The  grandfather  of  John  Hancock,  himself  called  John, 
was  for  more  than  fifty  years,  as  if  by  a  sort  of  vaticination  of 
the  future,  minister  of  Lexington,  near  to  Concord  ;  thus  asso- 
ciating with  that  of  Hancock  another  name,  now  to  all  Ameri- 
can ears  so  familiar  as  the  scene  of  the  first  revolutionary 
bloodshed.  We  are  told  by  a  biographer  of  this  first  John 
Hancock,  that  he  possessed  "  a  facetious  temper/'  but  in  the 
grim  old  portrait  which  still  hangs  on  the  walls  of  his  grand- 
son's family  mansion-house,  very  small  traces  of  facetiousness 
appear  ;  and  so  far  as  physiognomy  goes,  we  should  be  rather 
inclined  to  look  to  his  grandmother,  to  whose  accompanying 
portrait  the  artist  has  given  a  fine  open  countenance,  with  some- 
thing of  a  magnificent  and  voluptuous  style  of  beauty,  for  the 
source  of  those  social  qualities  and  captivating  manners  by 
which  their  famous  grandson  was  distinguished.  The  minister 
of  Lexington  had  two  sons,  both  also  ministers,  one  of  whom 
became  his  father's  colleague.  The  other,  the  father  of  our 
John  Hancock,  was  settled  at  Braintree,  near  Boston,  in  that 
part  of  it  which  now  constitutes  the  town  of  Quincy  ;  and  it 
was  here  that  in  the  year  1737  our  John  Hancock  was  born, 
only  a  short  distance  from  the  birth-place  of  John  Adams,  who 
was  some  two  years  his  senior.  The  old  house  in  which  the 
future  patriot  first  saw  the  light  was  destroyed  by  an  accidental 


100         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

fire  previous  to  the  Eevolution ;  and  the  land  on  which  it  had 
stood  coming  subsequently  into  the  possession  of  J ohn  Adams, 
he  presented  it  to  the  town  of  Quincy  as  a  site  for  a  future 
academy. 

At  the  age  of  six  or  seven  years,  the  young  John  Hancock 
was  left  without  a  father  ;  but  in  his  uncle,  Thomas  Hancock, 
he  found  a  guardian  and  protector,  who  not  only  loved  him, 
but  was  able  to  assist  him.  Thomas  Hancock  early  in  life 
had  been  placed  as  an  apprentice  to  a  Boston  stationer,  and 
had  afterwards  set  up  in  that  line  of  business  for  himself :  but 
subsequently  extending  the  sphere  of  his  operations,  he  became 
one  of  the  most  eminent  and  successful  merchants  of  New 
England.  As  he  had  no  children,  he  adopted,  as  his  own,  his 
young  nephew,  whose  affable  and  joyous  temper  had  not  failed 
to  make  him  dear  to  his  uncle,  as  they  did  to  so  many  others ; 
and  having  sent  him  to  Harvard  College,  where  he  graduated 
at  the  early  age  of  seventeen,  he  took  him  afterwards  into  his 
counting-house  to  be  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  merchan- 
dise ;  and  in  due  season  admitted  him  as  a  partner.  It  was, 
perhaps,  as  well  on  business  as  for  pleasure,  or  general  im- 
provement, that  the  young  Hancock  visited  England,  whither 
he  went  in  company  with  the  returning  Governor  Pownall, 
whose  taste  for  social  enjoyment  was  similar  to  his  own,  and 
where  he  saw  the  funeral  of  George  II.  and  the  coronation  of 
George  III.,  little  thinking  at  that  moment  how  active  a  part 
he  was  himself  soon  to  take  in  curtailing  the  limits  of  the 
British  monarchy,  and  in  snatching  from  the  young  king's 
crown  its  brightest  jewel. 

Thomas  Hancock,  the  uncle,  died  in  1764,  leaving  behind 
him  a  fortune  amassed  by  his  judicious  and  successful  mercan- 


HANCOCK. 


101 


tile  enterprises,  of  not  less  than  $350,000,  one  of  the  largest 
ever  acquired  in  Boston,  up  to  that  time,  though  small  in  com- 
parison with  several  of  the  present  day,  when  even  ten  times  as 
much  may  be  produced  by  combined  good  fortune,  tact,  and  per- 
severance. Thomas  Hancock  bestowed  by  his  will  some  consid- 
erable legacies  for  charitable  purposes,  among  others  a  thou- 
sand pounds  to  Harvard  College  to  endow  a  professorship  of  ori- 
ental languages,  being  thus,  as  the  historian  of  the  college  as- 
sures us3  the  first  native  American  to  endow  a  professorship  in 
any  literary  institution ; — but  the  great  bulk  of  his  fortune  he 
bequeathed  to  his  favorite  nephew,  $250,000  at  once,  and 
a  reversionary  interest  in  $100,000  more,  of  which  his  widow 
was  to  enjoy  the  use  during  her  life. 

Thus  in  1764,  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-seven,  and  just 
upon  the  eve  of  the  commencement  of  the  revolutionary  dis- 
putes with  the  mother  country,  John  Hancock  came  into  pos- 
session of  one  of  the  largest  fortunes  in  the  province. 

Yet,  though  this  large  estate  was  an  instrument  and  a 
stepping-stone,  without  the  help  of  which  Hancock  would 
never  have  attained  to  that  social  and  political  distinction 
which  he  coveted  and  enjoyed  so  much,  yet  without  his  rare 
personal  gifts  and  accomplishments  it  would  have  been  wholly 
unavailing  to  that  end ;  and  so  far  from  qualifying  him,  would 
have  disqualified  him,  as  it  did  so  many  other  of  the  rich  men 
of  that  time,  for  playing  the  conspicuous  part  he  did  in  political 
affairs.  Though  for  some  time  after  his  uncle's  death  he  con- 
tinued in  business  as  a  merchant,  there  were  others  who  knew 
much  better  than  he  how  to  increase  estates,  already  in  the 
popular  estimate — especially  considering  the  use  made  of 
them — quite  too  large.    Indeed,  his  business  operations  do 


102  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

not  seem  to  have  had  mainly  or  primarily  in  view  the  making 
of  money ;  for  though  he  started  new  enterprises,  going  largely 
into  ship-building,  it  was  rather,  at  least  so  Hutchinson  in- 
sinuates, as  a  politician  than  as  a  capitalist,  looking  more  to 
the  number  of  people  he  employed,  and  the  increase  thereby 
of  his  influence  and  popularity,  than  to  the  enlargement  of  his 
already  plentiful  fortune.  There  were  others  also  who  knew 
much  better  than  he  how  to  keep  what  they  had,  at  least  as 
they  thought,  men  who  used  no  less  economy  in  spending  their 
money  than  they  or  their  fathers  had  done  in  acquiring  it. 
But  although  the  rich  man  who  keeps  his  capital  entire,  and 
even  increasing,  is,  in  some  sense,  certainly  a  public  benefactor, 
yet  the  fountain  that  overflows,  sending  forth  a  copious  stream 
which  the  thirsty  passers-by  are  all  free  to  drink  from,  or  at 

least  to  look  at,  is  always  more  joyfully  seen  and  more  pleas- 

i 

ingly  remembered — even  though  it  does  run  the  risk  of  some 
time  running  dry — than  the  deep  well,  whose  water  is  hardly 
visible,  and  which,  though  quite  inexhaustible,  yet  for  want  of 
any  kind  of  a  bucket  that  can  be  made  to  sink  into  it,  or  any 
rope  long  enough  to  draw  such  a  bucket  up,  is  very  little  avail- 
able to  the  parched  throats  of  the  fainting  wayfarers,  who,  in 
the  spirit  and  with  the  feelings  of  Tantalus,  are  thus  rather 
disposed  to  curse  than  to  bless  it. 

To  be  able  to  make  money  is,  at  least  in  New  England,  a 
very  common  accomplishment,  to  be  able  to  keep  it  not  a  rare 
one ;  but  very  few  have  understood  so  well  as  Hancock  did, 
how  to  make  the  most  of  it  in  the  way  of  spending  it,  obtain- 
ing from  it,  as  he  did,  the  double  gratification  of  satisfying  his 
own  private  inclinations,  at  the  same  time  that  he  promoted 


HANCOCK. 


103 


his  political  views  by  the  hold  that  he  gained  on  the  favor  and 
good-will  of  his  fellow-citizens. 

He  possessed,  indeed,  in  a  degree,  those  tastes  which  wealth 
is  best  able  to  gratify,  and  to  the  gratification  of  which  it  is 
most  essential.  In  the  very  face  and  eyes  of  the  puritanical 
opinions  and  the  staid  and  ultra-sober  habits  of  New  England, 
he  delighted  in  splendid  furniture,  fine  clothes,  showy  equi- 
pages, rich  wines,  good  dinners,  gay  company,  cards,  dances, 
music,  and  all  sorts  of  festivities.  Nothing  pleased  him  so 
much  as  to  have  his  house  full  of  guests  to  share  with  him  in 
these  enjoyments,  and  few  were  better  qualified,  by  winning 
manners,  graceful  and  affable  address,  a  ready  wit,  a  full  flow 
of  spirits,  and  a  keen  enjoyment  of  the  whole  thing,  to  act  the 
part  of  master  of  the  feast.  But  while  thus  luxuriously  in- 
clined, he  had  no  disposition  for  gross  debauch :  and  the  pre- 
sence of  ladies  at  all  his  entertainments,  while  it  seemed  to  give 
to  them  a  new  zest,  banished  from  his  house  that  riotous  dis- 
sipation into  which  mere  male  gatherings  are  so  certain  to 
sink ;  and  which  in  times  past,  in  New  England,  made  the 
idea  of  gross  dissipation  almost  inseparable  from  that  of  social 
enjoyment,  nor  even  yet  is  the  distinction  between  them  fully 
apprehended  by  every  body. 

Among  other  property  which  Hancock  had  inherited  from 
his  uncle,  was  a  stone  mansion-house,  still  standing,  and  now 
in  the  very  centre  of  the  city  of  Boston,  but  which  then  was 
looked  upon  as  quite  retired  and  almost  in  the  country.  This 
house,  which  was  built  about  the  year  that  Hancock  was  born, 
fronts  eastwardly  on  Boston  Common,  since  so  elaborately  im- 
proved and  converted  into  so  beautiful  a  park,  with  its  gravel 
walks,  trees,  and  smooth-shaven  lawns,  but  which  was  then  a 


104  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

common  in  the  old  English  sense  of  the  word,  a  common  pas- 
ture for  the  cows  of  the  neighbors,  and  a  training  field  for  the 
militia,  with  very  few  improvements  except  a  single  gravel 
walk  and  two  or  three  rows  of  trees  along  Tremont-street. 
This  house  was  situated  a  little  west  of  the  central  and  high- 
est summit  of  that  triple  hill,  which  had  early  acquired  for  the 
peninsula  of  Boston  the  name  of  Trimountain, — since  short- 
ened into  Tremont,  and  preserved  in  the  name  of  the  street 
above  mentioned,  which  central  summit  was,  from  an  early 
period,  known  as  Beacon  Hill,  a  name  preserved  in  that  of 
Beacon-street.  Tins  name  was  derived  from  the  use  to  which 
this  highest  central  summit  had  been  put  from  a  very  early 
period — materials  being  always  kept  in  readiness  upon  the  top 
of  it  for  kindHng  a  bonfire,  as  a  means  of  alarming  the  country 
round  in  case  of  invasion  or  other  danger.  After  having  been 
a  good  deal  graded  down,  this  summit  is  now  occupied  as  a 
site  for  the  State  House,  which,  with  its  conspicuous  dome, 
crowns  and  overlooks  the  whole  city. 

It  was  in  this  mansion-house  of  his  uncle's,  which  seems  as 
if  by  a  sort  of  attraction  to  have  drawn  the  State  House  to 
its  side,  that  Hancock  continued  to  live  except  when  absent  at 
Philadelphia  in  attendance  on  the  Continental  Congress ;  and 
not  content  with  its  original  dimensions,  to  afford  more  room 
for  his  numerous  guests,  he  built  at  one  end  of  it  a  wooden  ad- 
dition, since  removed,  containing  a  dining-room,  dancing-hall, 
and  other  like  conveniences.  It  was  here  Hancock,  assisted  by 
his  amiable  and  accomplished  wife,  who  entered  into  all  his 
tastes  and  feelings,  and  who  contributed  her  full  share  to  give 
expression  and  realization  to  them,  presided  over  so  many  so- 
cial dinner  parties  and  gay  assemblages,  dressed  out,  both  host 


HANCOCK. 


105 


and  guests,  in  that  rich  costume  which  Copley,  who  was  one 
of  Hancock's  near  neighbors,  loved  so  well  to  paint,  and  of 
which  his  pencil  has  transmitted  to  us  so  vivid  an  idea.  Nor 
did  he  show  himself  abroad  with  less  display  than  he  exhibited 
at  home,  his  custom  being  to  ride  on  public  occasions  in  a 
splendid  carriage  drawn  by  six  beautiful  bays,  and  attended  by 
several  servants  in  livery. 

While  the  public  attention  was  thus  drawn  upon  him  by 
a  display  which  at  once  attracted  and  gratified  the  eyes  of  the 
multitude,  whose  envy  at  that  time  there  was  less  fear  than 
now  of  exciting,  and  by  a  generous  and  free  hospitality,  the 
more  captivating  for  not  being  either  indigenous  or  common, 
the  part  which  Hancock  took  in  the  rising  disputes  with  the 
mother  country  converted  him  into  that  popular  idol,  which 
he  continued  to  be  for  the  remainder  of  his  life ;  and  which, 
to  one  so  greedy  as  he  was  of  honor  and  applause,  must  have 
been  in  the  highest  degree  gratifying.  It  is  indeed  not  un- 
common to  depreciate  the  public  services  of  such  men  as  Han- 
cock, by  ascribing  all  to  vanity  and  the  love  of  distinction ;  as 
if  without  the  impulse  of  these  motives  any  great  efforts  would 
be  made  to  serve  the  public  !  Worthy  indeed  of  all  honor  are 
those  men  in  whom  these  impulses  take  so  honorable  a  direc- 
tion ;  and  happy  the  nation  able  to  purchase  such  services  at 
so  cheap  a  rate  ! 

In  1766,  two  years  after  his  uncle's  death,  Hancock  was 
chosen,  along  with  James  Otis,  Samuel  Adams,  and  Thomas 
Cushing,  one  of  the  four  representatives  from  Boston  to  the 
General  Court.  The  seizure,  two  years  after,  of  his  sloop 
Liberty,  for  alleged  violations  of  the  revenue  laws,  in  evading 
the  payment  of  duties  on  a  cargo  of  wine  imported  from  Ma- 


106  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

deira,  closely  and  personally  identified  him  with  the  resistance 
then  making  throughout  the  colonies  to  the  attempt  to  collect 
a  revenue  in  America  by  parliamentary  authority  alone.  This 
seizure  led  to  a  riot  which  figures  in  all  the  histories  of  that 
period,  by  which  the  commissioners  of  the  customs  were  driven 
from  the  town,  and  in  consequence  of  which  two  or  three  Bri- 
tish regiments  were  ordered  to  Boston — the  first  step  on  the 
part  of  the  mother  country  towards  a  military  enforcement  of 
the  authority  which  she  claimed.  Hancock  felt  personally  the 
consequences  of  this  riot,  in  a  number  of  libels  or  criminal  in- 
formations filed  against  him  in  the  Court  of  Admiralty,  to  re- 
cover penalties  to  the  amount  of  three  or  four  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars,  for  violations  of  the  revenue  laws.  "  It  seemed," 
writes  John  Adams  in  his  Diary,  and  he  had  ample  opportu- 
nity to  know,  for  he  was  retained  as  Hancock's  counsel,  "as  if 
the  officers  of  the  court  were  determined  to  examine  the  whole 
town  as  witnesses."  In  hopes  to  fish  out  some  evidence  against 
him,  they  interrogated  many  of  his  near  relations  and  most  in- 
timate friends.  They  even  threatened  to  summon  his  aged 
and  venerable  aunt :  nor  did  those  annoyances  cease  till  the 
battle  of  Lexington,  the  siege  of  Boston,  and  the  expulsion  of 
the  British  from  that  town  shut  up  the  Admiralty  Court,  and 
brought  the  prosecution,  and  British  authority  along  with  it,  to 
an  end. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  disputes  with  the  mother 
country,  the  sentiment  against  the  right  of  parliament  to  im- 
pose taxes  on  the  colonies  had  seemed  to  be  almost  unanimous. 
The  only  exceptions  were  a  few  persons  holding  office  under  the 
crown.  The  rich  especially,  this  being  a  question  that  touched 
the  pocket,  were  very  loud  in  their  protests  against  any  such 


HANCOCK. 


107 


exercise  of  parliamentary  authority.  But  as  the  dispute  grew 
more  warm  and  violent,  threatening  to  end  in  civil  commotions, 
the  rich,  not  doubting  that  the  mother  country  would  triumph 
in  the  end,  and  fearing  the  loss  of  their  entire  property  in  the 
attempt  to  save  a  part  of  it,  began  to  draw  back  ;  thus  making 
much  more  conspicuous  than  ever  the  position  of  Hancock  as 
a  leader  of  the  popular  party.  Indeed  there  was  hardly  a 
wealthy  man  in  Boston,  he  and  Bowdoin  excepted,  both  of 
whom  had  not  accumulated  but  inherited  their  property,  who 
did  not  end  with  joining  the  side  of  the  mother  country.  And 
the  same  thing  may  be  observed  of  Massachusetts,  and  indeed 
of  New  England  generally.  Of  all  the  larger  and  better-look- 
ing mansion-houses,  of  eighty  years  old  and  upwards,  still  stand- 
ing in  the  vicinity  of  Boston,  of  which  the  number  is  consider- 
able, there  are  very  few  that  did  not  originally  belong  to  some 
old  tory  who  forfeited  his  property  out  of  his  very  anxiety  to 
preserve  it.  Hancock's  acceptance  of  the  command  of  the 
company  of  cadets  or  governor's  guard,  whence  the  title  of 
colonel  by  which  for  some  time  he  was  known ;  his  acting  with 
that  company  as  an  escort,  at  the  funeral  of  Lieutenant-Gover- 
nor Oliver,  who  was  very  obnoxious  to  the  patriots ;  his  refus- 
ing to  go  all  lengths  with  Samuel  Adams  in  the  controversy 
with  Hutchinson  as  to  the  governor's  right  to  call  the  General 
Court  together,  elsewhere  than  in  Boston;  and  the  circumstance 
that  although  he  had  been  several  times  before  negatived  as  a 
member  of  the  council,  Hutchinson  had  at  length  allowed  Iris 
name  on  the  list  of  counsellors  proposed  by  the  General  Court ; 
these  and  perhaps  some  other  circumstances  excited  indeed 
some  suspicions  that  Hancock  also  was  growing  lukewarm  to 
the  popular  cause.    But  these  he  took  care  to  dissipate  by  de- 


108  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

clining  to  sit  as  counsellor,  by  acting  as  orator  at  the  Anniver- 
sary of  the  Boston  Massacre,  and  by  accepting,  not  long  after, 
an  appointment  as  one  of  the  delegates  to  the  Continental  Con- 
gress. The  oration  above  alluded  to,  delivered  in  March,  1774? 
and  which  Hancock's  enemies  pretended  was  written  for  him 
by  Dr.  Cooper,  was  pronounced  by  John  Adams,  who  heard 
it,  "  an  eloquent,  pathetic,  and  spirited  performance." 

"  The  composition,"  so  he  wrote  in  Iris  diary,  "the  pronun- 
ciation, the  action,  all  exceeded  the  expectation  of  every  body. 
[These  last  were  certainly  not  Cooper's.]  They  exceeded  even 
mine,  which  were  very  considerable.  Many  of  the  sentiments 
came  with  great  propriety  from  him.  His  invective,  particu- 
larly against  a  preference  of  riches  to  virtue,  came  from  him 
with  a  singular  dignity  and  grace."  A  passage  in  this  oration, 
which  was  afterwards  printed,  on  the  subject  of  standing  armies, 
gave  great  offence  to  the  British  officers  and  soldiers  by  whom 
the  town  continued  to  be  occupied,  and  not  long  after  Governor 
Gage  dismissed  Hancock  from  his  command  of  the  company 
of  cadets  ;  whereupon  they  disbanded  themselves,  returning 
the  standard  which  the  governor  on  his  initiation  into  office 
had  presented  to  them. 

The  sensibilities  of  the  British  officers  and  soldiers  being 
again  excited  by  some  parts  of  an  oration  delivered  the  next 
year  by  Dr.  Warren,  on  the  same  anniversary,  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore the  battle  of  Lexington,  a  military  mob  beset  Hancock's 
house  and  began  to  destroy  the  fences  and  waste  the  grounds. 
Gage  sent  a  military  guard  to  put  a  stop  to  their  outrages. 

But  it  was  no  longer  safe  for  Hancock  to  remain  in  such 
close  contiguity  to  the  British  troops.  He  was  president  of 
the  Provincial  Congress  of  Massachusetts,  which,  in  conse- 


HANCOCK. 


109 


quence  of  the  act  of  parliament  to  modify  the  charter  of  that 
province,  had  lately  assumed  to  themselves  the  power  of  the 
purse  and  the  sword.  He  was  also  president  of  the  provincial 
committee  of  safety,  which,  under  authority  of  the  Provincial 
Congress,  had  begun  in  good  earnest  to  prepare  for  taking  arms 
for  the  vindication  of  those  rights  which  the  men  of  Massachu- 
setts claimed  under  the  now  violated  and  (so  far  as  parliament 
had  the  power)  abrogated  Charter  of  the  province.  Under  these 
circumstances,  Hancock  abandoned  his  house,  which  was  subse- 
quently occupied  by  Lord  Percy  as  his  headquarters ;  and  at 
the  time  of  the  march  of  the  British  troops  for  Concord,  he 
was  living  at  Lexington,  in  company  with  Samuel  Adams.  In- 
deed it  was1  supposed  that  one  of  the  objects  of  this  march 
was  to  seize  the  persons  of  those  two  patriots,  to  whom  Gage 
seemed  to  point  as  the  authors  of  the  collision  at  Lexington 
by  the  issue  of  a  proclamation,  in  which  pardon  was  offered 
to  all  who,  giving  over  their  late  traitorous  proceedings,  would 
furnish  proof  of  their  repentance  and  of  their  renewed  allegi- 
ance to  their  king,  by  submitting  to  the  authority  of  his  duly 
appointed  governor,  and  of  the  late  act  of  parliament :  but 
from  this  pardon  John  Hancock  and  Samuel  Adams  were  ex- 
cepted, their  offences  being  too  flagrant  to  be  passed  over  with- 
out condign  punishment. 

Before  the  issue  of  this  proclamation,  Hancock  had  already 
proceeded  to  Philadelphia,  where  the  famous  Continental  Con- 
gress of  1775  was  already  in  session,  composed,  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, of  the  same  members  with  its  predecessor  of  the  year  be- 
fore, but  of  which  he  had  been  chosen  a  member  in  place  of 
Bowdoin.  He  was  a  fluent  and  agreeable  speaker,  one  of 
those  who,  by  grace  of  manner,  seem  to  add  a  double  force 
and  weight  to  all  which  they  say ;  yet  in  that  illustrious  as- 


110         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

sembly  there  were  quite  a  number,  including  John  Adams, 
from  his  own  State,  compared  with  whom  he  could  hardly 
have  claimed  rank  as  an  orator.  There  were  also  in  that  as- 
sembly several  able  writers ;  the  state  papers  emanating  from 
whose  pens  were  compared  by  Chatham  to  the  ablest  produc- 
tions of  the  republican  ages  of  Greece  and  Koine ;  but  Han- 
cock was  not  one  of  those.  There  were  men  of  business  there 
who  undertook,  without  shrinking,  all  the  Herculean  labors  of 
organizing  the  army  and  navy,  the  treasury  and  the  foreign 
office  of  the  new  confederation — but  neither  in  this  line  does 
Hancock  appear  to  have  been  greatly  distinguished.  And  yet 
it  was  not  long  before,  by  his  appointment  as  president  of  that 
body,  he  rose  to  a  position  in  Continental  affairs,  no  less  con- 
spicuous than  that  which  we  have  seen  him  exercising  in  those 
of  his  own  province.  Circumstances  led  indeed  to  this  situa- 
tion, quite  apart  from  Hancock's  personal  qualifications,  and 
yet  had  he  not  possessed  those  qualifications  in  a  high  degree, 
he  would  never  have  had  the  opportunity  of  immortalizing 
himself  as  he  has  done  by  his  famous  signature  at  the  head  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence, — a  signature  well  calculated 
to  give  a  strong  impression  with  those  who  judge  of  personal 
character  by  handwriting,  of  the  decided  temper  and  whole- 
hearted energy  of  the  man.  Virginia,  as  the  most  populous 
and  wealthy  of  the  colonies,  had  received  the  compliment  of 
furnishing  the  President  of  the  Congress  of  1774  ;  and  Peyton 
Kandolph — a  planter  and  lawyer,  an  elderly  gentleman  of  the 
old  school,  formerly  attorney  general  of  that  province,  and  in 
Governor  Dinwiddie's  time,  sent  by  the  Assembly  on  a  special 
message  to  England,  to  complain  of  the  governor  for  the  fees 
he  exacted  on  patents  of  land — had  been  first  selected  for  that 


HANCOCK. 


Ill 


distinguished  station.  He  had  again  been  chosen  as  President 
of  the  new  Congress ;  but  being  also  speaker  of  the  Virginia 
House  of  Burgesses,  and  that  body  having  been  called  toge- 
ther by  Lord  Dunmore,  in  what  proved  to  be  its  last  meeting, 
to  consider  Lord  North's  conciliatory  propositions,  it  became 
necessary  for  Randolph  to  return  home.  His  place  in  Con- 
gress was  filled,  in  compliance  with  an  arrangement  previously 
made  by  the  House  of  Burgesses,  by  no  less  distinguished  a  suc- 
cessor than  Thomas  Jefferson  ;  but  in  filling  up  the  vacant 
seat  of  President  of  Congress,  during  what  was  then  regarded 
as  but  the  temporary  absence  of  Randolph,  it  was  natural 
enough  to  look  to  Massachusetts,  the  next  province  to  Virginia 
in  population  and  wealth,  no  ways  behind  her  in  zeal  for  the 
cause,  and,  as  the  result  proved,  far  her  superior  in  military 
capabilities.  Nor  among  the  delegates  present  from  Massa- 
chusetts, was  there  any  one  who  seemed,  on  the  whole,  so  well 
fitted  for  the  station,  or  likely  to  be  at  all  so  satisfactory  to  the 
delegates  from  the  other  States,  as  John  Hancock.  Had 
James  Bowdoin  been  present,  he  would  perhaps  have  been 
more  acceptable  to  the  great  body  of  the  members  than  Han- 
cock, as  being  less  identified  than  he  was  with  violent  mea- 
sures. But  though  chosen  a  delegate  to  the  first  Congress, 
the  sickness  of  Bowdoin's  wife  had  prevented  his  attendance  ; 
and  the  same  cause  still  operating  to  keep  him  at  home,  John 
Hancock  had  been  appointed,  as  we  have  mentioned,  in  his 
place.  Of  Hancock's  four  colleagues,  all  of  whom  were  older 
men  than  himself,  Samuel  Adams  certainly,  if  not  J ohn  Adams 
also,  might  have  disputed  with  him  the  palm  of  zeal  and  ac- 
tivity in  the  revolutionary  cause ;  but  not  one  of  them  risked 
so  much  as  he  did,  at  least  in  the  judgment  of  his  fellow-mem- 


112  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

bers  from  the  middle  and  southern  provinces,  who  were  gener- 
ally men  of  property.  He  alone,  of  all  the  New  England  dele- 
gates, had  a  fortune  to  lose  ;  and  while  his  wealthy  southern 
colleagues  looked  with  some  distrust  upon  the  Adamses,  regard- 
ing them  perhaps  a  little  in  the  light,  if  we  may  be  pardoned  so 
coarse  an  illustration,  of  the  monkey  in  the  fable,  who  wished  to 
rake  his  chestnuts  out  of  the  fire  at  the  risk  and  expense  of  other 
people's  fingers,  no  such  idea  could  attach  to  Hancock,  who,  in 
point  of  fortune,  had  probably  as  much  to  lose  as  any  other 
member,  except  perhaps  John  Dickinson — for  the  wealthy 
Charles  Carrol,  of  Maryland,  had  not  a  seat  in  the  Congress. 
At  the  same  time  Hancock's  genial  manners  and  social  spirit, 
seemed  to  the  members  from  the  southern  and  middle  pro- 
vinces to  make  him  quite  one  of  themselves,  an  associate  in 
pleasure  and  social  intercourse,  as  well  as  in  business ;  while 
the  austere  spirit  and  laborious  industry  of  the  Adamses  threat- 
ened to  inflict  upon  them  the  double  hardship  of  all  work  and 
no  play.  But  while  the  moderate  members  found,  as  they  sup- 
posed, in  the  fortune  which  Hancock  had  at  stake  a  pledge 
that  he  would  not  hurry  matters  to  any  violent  extremes  ;  the 
few  also  most  disposed  to  press  matters  to  a  final  breach,  were 
well  satisfied  to  have  as  president,  one  who  had  shown  himself 
in  his  own  province  so  energetic,  prompt,  decisive,  and  tho- 
rough. 

Yet  Hancock's  colleagues,  and  the  members  generally  from 
New  England,  never  entirely  forgave  the  preference  which  had 
been  thus  early  shown  to  him ;  and  upon  many  of  the  sectional 
questions  and  interests  which  soon  sprung  up,  and  by  which 
the  Continental  Congress  was  at  times  so  seriously  belittled 
and  so  greatly  distracted,  Hancock  was  often  accused  of  de- 


HANCOCK. 


113 


serting  the  interests  of  New  England,  and  of  going  with  the 
southern  party.  The  internal  and  secret  history  of  the  Con- 
tinental Congress  or  rather  of  the  temporary  and  personal  mo- 
tives "by  which  the  conduct  of  its  members,  as  to  a  variety  of 
details,  was  influenced,  remains  so  much  in  obscurity  that  it 
is  not  easy  to  ascertain  the  precise  foundation  of  those  charges, 
reiterated  as  they  are  in  letters  and  other  memoirs  of  those 
times ;  but  on  the  whole,  no  reason  appears  to  regard  them 
otherwise  than  as  the  natural  ebullition  of  disappointed  parti- 
sanship against  a  man,  who,  in  the  struggle  of  contending  fac- 
tions and  local  interests,  strove  to  hold  the  balance  even,  and 
who  did  not  believe,  with  Samuel  Adams  and  some  others,  that 
political  wisdom  was  limited  to  New  England  alone. 

The  President  of  Congress,  in  those  times,  was  regarded 
as  the  personal  representative  of  that  body  and  of  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  Union ;  and  in  that  respect  filled,  to  a  certain 
degree,  in  the  eye  of  the  nation  and  of  the  world,  the  place 
now  occupied  by  the  President  of  the  United  States,  though 
sharing,  in  no  degree,  the  vast  patronage  and  substantial 
power  attached  to  the  latter  office.  In  his  capacity  of  per- 
sonal representative  of  the  nation  the  President  of  Congress 
kept  open  house  and  a  well-spread  table,  to  which  members  of 
Congress,  officers  of  the  army,  attaches  of  the  diplomatic  corps 
foreign  and  domestic,  distinguished  strangers,  every  body  in 
fact  who  thought  themselves  to  be  any  body — a  pretty  large 
class,  at  least  in  America — expected  invitations  ;  whereby  was 
imposed  upon  that  officer  pretty  laborious  social  duties,  in  ad- 
dition to  his  public  and  political  ones,  which  were  by  no  means 
trifling.  All  these  duties  of  both  classes,  Hancock  continued 
to  discharge  with  great  assiduity  and  to  general  satisfaction, 


114         HOMES    -OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

for  upwards  of  two  years  and  a  half,  through  a  period  at  which 
the  power  and  respectability  of  the  Continental  Congress  was 
at  its  greatest  height,  before  the  downfall  of  the  paper  money 
and  the  total  exhaustion  of  the  credit  of  the  nation  at  home 
and  abroad  had  reduced  the  representative  of  the  sovereignty 
of  the  nation  to  a  pitiful  dependence  on  the  bounty  of  France, 
and  upon  requisitions  on  the  States,  to  which  very  little  atten- 
tion was  paid.  Feeling  all  the  dignity  of  his  position,  Han- 
cock took  one  of  the  largest  houses  in  Pluladelphia,  where  he 
lived  in  profuse  hospitality,  and  all  upon  advances  made  out 
of  his  own  pocket.  After  his  day,  it  became  necessary  for 
Congress  to  allow  their  president  a  certain  annual  stipend  out 
of  the  public  treasury  to  support  the  expenses  of  his  household. 
In  Hancock's  time,  this  was  not  thought  of  ;  and  it  was  not 
till  near  the  close  of  the  war,  after  the  precedent  had  been  es- 
tablished in  the  case  of  Iris  successors,  that  he  put  in  any  claim 
for  the  reimbursement  of  Iris  expenses. 

There  is  a  story,  that  Hancock,  when  chosen  President  of 
Congress,  blushed  and  modestly  hung  back,  and  was  drawn 
into  the  chair  only  by  the  exertion  of  some  gentle  force  on  the 
part  of  the  brawny  Harrison,  a  member  from  Virginia,  and 
afterwards  governor  of  that  State.  And  yet,  according  to 
John  Adams,  Hancock  was  hardly  warm  in  his  seat  when  he 
aspired  to  a  much  more  distinguished  position.  He  expected 
to  have  been  appointed  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  American 
armies,  and  displayed  in  his  countenance,  so  Adams  says  in 
his  Diary,  the  greatest  vexation  and  disappointment  when 
W ashington  was  named  for  that  station.  It  is  certain  that  he 
had  some  military  aspi rations,  for  he  wrote  to  Washington 
shortly  after  his  assumption  of  command,  requesting  that  some 


HANCOCK. 


115 


place  in  the  army  might  be  kept  for  him,  to  which  Washing- 
ton replied  with  compliments  at  his  zeal,  but  with  apprehen- 
sion that  he  had  no  place  at  his  disposal  worthy  of  Colonel 
Hancock's  acceptance.  Not  long  after  his  return  to  Boston, 
his  military  ardor  revived.  He  procured  himself  to  be  chosen 
a  major-general  of  the  Massachusetts  militia,  and  he  marched 
the  next  summer  (1778)  at  the  head  of  his  division  to  join 
the  expedition  against  Newport,  in  which  the  French  fleet  and 
troops  just  arrived  under  D'Estaing,  a  detachment  from  Wash- 
ington's army  under  Sullivan,  Greene,  and  La  Fayette,  and 
the  militia  from  the  neighboring  States  were  to  co-operate. 
But  D'Estaing  suffered  himself  to  be  drawn  out  to  sea  by  the 
English  fleet,  which  had  appeared  off  Newport  for  that  express 
purpose,  and  after  a  slight  running  engagement,  the  fleet,  while 
struggling  for  the  weather  gauge,  were  separated  by  a  violent 
storm,  in  which  some  of  D'Estaing's  ships  were  dismasted  and 
others  greatly  damaged,  so  that  he  judged  it  necessary  to  put 
into  Boston  to  refit.  The  American  army  meanwhile  had 
crossed  to  Bhode  Island,  and  established  itself  before  New- 
port, but  as  Count  D'Estaing  could  not  be  persuaded  to  re- 
turn, it  became  necessary  to  abandon  the  island,  not  with- 
out a  battle  to  cover  the  retreat.  With  this  expedition, 
Hancock's  military  career  seems  to  have  terminated ;  but  on 
arriving  at  Boston,  he  found  ample  work  on  hand  better  adapt- 
ed perhaps  to  his  talents  than  the  business  of  active  warfare. 
Sullivan,  of  a  hot  and  impetuous  temper,  and  excessively  vexed 
at  D'Estaing's  conduct,  was  even  imprudent  enough  to  give 
expression  to  his  feelings  in  general  orders.  It  was  like  touch- 
a  spark  to  tinder,  and  the  American  army  before  New- York, 
which  shared  the  general's  feelings,  encouraged  by  his  exam- 
ple, "broke  out,"  so  Greene  wrote  to  Washington,  "  in  clamor- 


116  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

ous  strains."  The  same  disappointment  was  bitterly  felt  also 
at  Boston  ;  for  the  British  occupation  of  Newport  had  long 
been  an  eyesore  to  New  England,  occasioning  great  expense  in 
keeping  up  militia  to  watch  the  enemy  there,  and  in  projects 
for  their  expulsion;  and  the  prevailing  dissatisfaction  at  the  con- 
duct of  the  French  admiral  soon  found  expression  in  a  serious 
riot  between  the  populace  of  the  town  and  the  sailors  of  the 
French  fleet,  threatening  to  revive  all  those  violent  prejudices 
against  the  French,  fostered  in  the  colonies  for  near  a  hundred 
years,  and  which  the  recent  alliance  with  France  had  glossed 
over  indeed,  but  had  not  wholly  subdued.  Upon  this  occasion, 
Hancock  exerted  himself  with  zeal  and  success  to  prevent  this 
ill-temper,  which  had  broken  out  between  the  classes  least  ac- 
customed to  restrain  their  feelings  or  the  expression  of  them, 
from  spreading  any  higher.  He  opened  his  house  to  the  French 
officers,  who,  delighted  at  the  opportunity  of  social  enjoyment 
and  female  society,  kept  it  full  from  morning  till  night,  and 
by  his  "  unwearied  pains,"  so  La  Fayette  wrote  to  Washington, 
did  much  to  heal  the  breach  which  Sullivan's  imprudence  had 
so  dangerously  aggravated.  On  this  occasion,  at  least,  if  on 
no  other,  Hancock's  love  of  gayety,  and  of  social  pleasures,*  * 
proved  very  serviceable  to  his  country. 

During  his  absence  at  Philadelphia,  his  popularity  at  home 
had  undergone  no  diminution,  and  he  soon  resumed,  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  council,  on  which  since  the  breach  with  Gage  the 
executive  administration  had  devolved,  a  leading  influence  in 
the  State  administration ;  and  when  at  last,  after  two  trials,  a 
constitution  was  sanctioned  by  the  people,  he  was  chosen  by 
general  consent  the  first  governor  under  it.  This  was  a  sta- 
tion of  vastly  more  consideration  then  than  now.    Under  the 


HANCOCK. 


117 


old  confederation,  at  least  after  the  Continental  Congress,  by 
the  exhaustion  of  its  credit  and  the  repudiation  of  its  bills, 
had  no  longer  money  at  command,  the  States  were  sovereign 
in  fact  as  well  as  in  words ;  while  all  that  reverence  which 
Under  the  old  system  had  attached  to  the  royal  governors,  had 
been  transferred  to  their  first  republican  successors.  Since 
that  period  the  State  governments  have  sunk  into  mere  muni- 
cipalities fur  the  administration  of  local  affairs,  and  all  eyes 
being  constantly  turned  towards  Washington,  the  executive 
offices  of  the  States,  even  the  station  of  governor,  are  no  longer 
regarded  except  as  stepping-stones  to  something  higher. 

Hancock  discharged  his  office  as  governor  to  good  accept- 
ance for  five  years,  when  he  voluntarily  retired,  making  way 
for  James  Bowdoin,  who  might  be  regarded  in  some  respects 
as  his  rival,  the  head  of  a  party,  perhaps  more  intelligent,  and 
certainly  far  more  select,  than  that  great  body  of  the  popula- 
tion by  whom  Hancock  was  supported ;  but  whom,  so  at  least 
his  opponents  said,  he  rather  studied  to  follow  than  aspired  to 
lead.  During  Bowdoin's  administration,  occurred  Shays'  in- 
surrection, one  of  the  most  interesting  and  instructive  incidents 
in  the  history  of  Massachusetts,  but  into  the  particulars  of 
which  we  have  not  space  here  to  enter.  This  insurrection,  of 
which  the  great  object  was  the  cancelling  of  debts,  an  object 
which  the  States  now  practically  accomplish  by  means  of  insol- 
vent laws,  was  thought  to  involve,  either  as  participators  more 
or  less  active,  or  at  least  as  favorers  and  sympathizers,  not  less 
than  a  third  part  of  the  population  of  the  State.  The  active 
measures  taken  at  Bowdoin's  suggestion  for  putting  down  the 
insurgents  by  an  armed  force,  and  the  political  disabilities  and 
other  punishments  inflicted  upon  them  after  their  defeat,  did 


118  H     MES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

not  at  all  tend  to  increase  Bowdoin's  £>opularity  with  this  large 
portion  of  the  people.  Though  Hancock's  health  had  not  al- 
lowed him  to  take  his  seat  in  the  Continental  Congress,  to 
which  he  had  again  been  chosen  a  delegate,  and  by  which  he 
had,  in  his  absence,  been  again  selected  as  their  president — yet, 
weary  of  retirement,  he  suffered  himself  to  be  brought  forward 
as  a  candidate,  and  to  be  elected  as  governor  over  Bowdoin's 
head — a  procedure  never  forgiven  by  what  may  be  called  the 
party  of  property,  against  which  the  insurrection  of  Shays  had 
been  aimed,  whose  members  thenceforth  did  not  cease,  in  pri- 
vate at  least,  to  stigmatize  Hancock  as  a  mere  demagogue,  if 
not  indeed  almost  a  Shay  site  himself.  Nor  indeed  is  it  impos- 
sible, that  the  governor,  with  all  his  property,  had  some  per- 
sonal sympathies  with  that  party.  He,  like  them,  was  harassed 
with  debts,  which,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  case  of  the  college, 
he  was  not  much  inclined,  and  probably  not  very  able,  to  bring 
to  a  settlement.  He  still  had  large  possessions  in  lands  and 
houses  in  Boston,  but  at  this  moment;  his  property  was  unsala- 
ble, and  to  a  considerable  extent  unproductive ;  and  a  stop 
law  might  have  suited  his  convenience  not  less  than  that  of 
the  embarrassed  farmers  in  the  interior,  who  had  assembled 
under  the  leadership  of  Shays  to  shut  up  the  courts  and  put 
a  stop  to  suits.  This  scheme,  however,  had  been  effectually 
put  down  prior  to  Hancock's  accession  to  office,  and  it  only 
remained  for  him  to  moderate,  by  executive  clemency,  the 
penalties  inflicted  on  the  suppressed  insurgents — a  policy  which 
the  state  of  the  times  and  the  circumstances  of  the  case  very 
loudly  demanded,  however  little  it  might  be  to  the  taste  of  the 
more  imperious  leaders  of  the  party  by  which  those  penalties 
had  been  inflicted.    But  even  this  same  j>arty  might  acknow- 


HANCOCK. 


119 


ledge  a  great  obligation  to  Hancock  for  the  assistance  which 
they  soon  after  obtained  from  him  in  securing  the  ratification 
by  Massachusetts  of  that  federal  constitution  under  which  we 
now  so  happily  live.  Still  governor  of  the  State,  he  was  chosen 
a  delegate  from  Boston  to  the  State  convention,  called  to  con- 
sider the  proposed  constitution :  and  though  incapacitated  by 
sickness  from  taking  his  seat  till  near  the  close  of  the  session, 
he  was  named  its  president.  The  federal  constitution  had 
been  already  ratified  by  five  States,  Delaware,  Pennsylvania, 
New  Jersey,  Georgia,  and  Connecticut.  But  Virginia,  New 
York,  and  North  Carolina,  were  known  to  be  strongly  against 
it,  and  its  rejection  by  Massachusetts  would,  in  all  probability, 
prevent  its  acceptance  by  the  number  of  States  required  to 
give  it  effect.  The  convention  was  very  equally  divided,  and 
the  result  hung  long  in  doubt.  At  last  Hancock  came  upon 
the  floor  and  proposed  some  amendments,  principally  in  the 
nature  of  a  bill  of  rights,  agreed  to  probably  by  concert  out 
of  doors,  to  be  suggested  for  the  approval  of  Congress  and  adop- 
tion by  the  States  under  the  provision  for  amendments  con- 
tained in  the  constitution,  and  most  of  which  were  afterwards 
adopted.  Thus  sweetened,  the  constitution  was  fairly  forced 
down  the  reluctant  throat  of  the  convention ;  and  unlike  the 
typical  book  of  St."  J ohn,  though  so  bitter  in  the  mouth,  it  has 
fortunately  proved  sweet  enough  and  very  nourishing  in  the 
digestion. 

On  the  occasion  of  Washington's  visit  to  Boston,  subse- 
quently to  his  inauguration  as  President,  a  curious  struggle 
took  place  between  him  and  Hancock,  or  perhaps  we  ought  ra- 
ther to  say,  between  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts  and  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  on  a  question  of  etiquette. 


120 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


Hancock,  as  Governor  of  Massachusetts,  insisted  upon  the  first 
call,  a  precedence  which  Washington,  as  President  of  the 
United  States,  refused  to  yield.  Finding  himself  obliged  to 
succumb,  Hancock's  gout  and  other  complicated  diseases  serv- 
ed him  for  once  in  good  stead ;  for  in  the  note  which  he  finally 
sent,  announcing  his  intention  to  wait  upon  Washington,  they 
answered  as  a  convenient  excuse  for  not  having  fulfilled  that 
duty  before. 

Some  two  or  three  years  after,  we  find  Governor  Hancock, 
out  of  deference  to  the  puritanical  opinions  and  laws  of  the 
State,  involved  in  another  noticeable  controversy,  but  one  into 
which  he  could  not  have  entered  with  any  great  heart.  Shortly 
after  the  adoption  of  the  federal  constitution,  a  company  of 
stage-players  had  made  their  appearance  in  Boston,  and  though 
the  laws  still  prohibited  theatrical  exhibitions,  encouraged  by 
the  countenance  of  the  gayer  j)art  of  the  population,  they  com- 
menced the  performance  of  plays,  which  they  advertised  in 
the  newspapers  as  "  Moral  Lectures."  Some  of  their  friends 
among  the  townsfolks  had  even  built  a  temporary  theatre  for 
their  accommodation,  a  trampling  under  foot  of  the  laws,  which 
seemed  the  more  reprehensible  as  the  legislature,  though  ap- 
plied to  for  that  purpose,  had  twice  refused  to  repeal  that  pro- 
hibitory statute.  "  To  the  legislature  which  met  shortly  after," 
we  quote  from  the  fourth  volume  of  Hildreth's  History  of  the 
United  States,  "  Governor  Hancock  gave  information  that  c  a 
number  of  aliens  and  foreigners  had  entered  the  State,  and  in 
the  metropolis  of  the  government,  under  advertisements  in- 
sulting to  the  habits  and  education  of  the  citizens,  had  been 
pleased  to  invite  them  to,  and  to  exhibit  before  such  as  at- 
tended, stage-plays,  interludes,  and  theatrical  entertainments, 


HANCOCK. 


121 


under  the  style  and  appellation  of  Moral  Lectures.'  All  which, 
as  he  complained,  had  been  suffered'  to  go  on  without  any  steps 
taken  to  punish  a  most  open  breach  of  the  laws,  and  a  most 
contemptuous  insult  to  the  powers  of  government.  Shortly 
after  this  denunciation  by  the  governor,  suddenly  one  night,  in 
the  midst  of  the  performance  of  6  The  School  for  Scandal/  the 
sheriff  of  the  county  appeared  on  the  stage,  arrested  the  actors, 
and  broke  up  the  performances.  When  the  examination  came 
on,  having  procured  able  counsel  (one  of  whom,  if  we  mistake 
not,  wTas  the  then  young  Harrison  Gray  Otis),  the  actors  were 
discharged  on  the  ground  that  the  arrest  was  illegal,  the  war- 
rant not  having  been  sworn  to.  This  error  was  soon  corrected, 
and  a  second  arrest  brought  the  performances  to  a  close. 
But  the  legislature,  rinding  that  the  sentiment  of  the  town  of 
Boston  was  strong  against  the  law,  and  that  a  new  and  per- 
manent theatre  was  in  the  course  of  erection,  repealed  the  pro- 
hibitory act  a  few  months  after." 

This  temporary  triumph  over  the  poor  players  was  one  of 
the  last  of  Hancock's  long  series  of  successes ;  unless  indeed 
we  ought  to  assign  that  station  to  the  agency  which  he  had  in 
procuring  the  erasure  from  the  federal  constitution  of  a  very 
equitable  and  necessary  provision,  authorizing  suits  in  the 
federal  courts  against  the  States  by  individuals  having  claims 
upon  them.  At  such  a  suit,  brought  against  the  State  of 
Massachusetts,  Hancock  exhibited  a  vast  deal  of  indignation 
calling  the  legislature  together  at  a  very  inconvenient  season 
of  the  year,  and  refusing  to  pay  the  least  attention  to  the  pro- 
cess served  upon  him.  Yet  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States,  not  long  after,  decided  that  such  suits  would  lie,  as  in- 
deed was  sufficiently  plain  from  the  letter  of  the  constitution 


122  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

But  the  sovereign  States,  with  all  the  insolence  customary  to 
sovereigns,  whether  one-headed  or  many-headed,  scorned  to  be 
compelled  to  do  justice  ;  and  the  general  clamor  raised  against 
this  reasonable  and  even  necessary  provision,  caused  it  to  be 
ultimately  struck  from  the  constitution. 

Before  this  was  accomplished,  Hancock's  career  of  life  was 
over.  Worn  down  by  the  gout  and  other  aristocratic  diseases, 
which  the  progress  of  democracy  seems,  since  his  time,  to  have 
almost  banished  from  America,  he  expired  at  the  early  age  of 
fifty-six,  in  the  same  house  in  which  he  had  presided  over  so 
many  social  and  political  festivities,  lamented  by  almost  the 
entire  population  of  the  State  in  whose  service  he  had  spent 
the  best  part  of  his  life,  and  whose  faithful  attachment  to  him, 
spite  of  some  obvious  weaknesses  on  his  part,  had  yet  never 
flagged. 

Had  we  space  and  inclination,  many  lessons  might  be 
drawn  from  the  history  of  his  life.  We  shall  confine  ourselves 
to  this  one,  which  every  body's  daily  experience  may  confirm : 
that  success  in  active  life,  whether  political  or  private,  even  the 
attainment  of  the  very  highest  positions,  depends  far  less  on  an}T 
extraordinary  endowments,  either  of  nature  or  fortune,  than 
upon  an  active,  vigorous,  and  indefatigable  putting  to  use  of 
such  gifts  as  a  man  happens  to  have.  What  a  difference,  so 
far  as  name  and  fame  are  concerned,  and  we  may  add,  too,  en- 
joyment and  a  good  conscience,  between  the  man  who  puts  his 
talent  to  use  and  him  who  hoards  it  up,  so  that  even  its  very 
existence  remains  unknown  to  every  body  but  himself  and  his 
intimate  friends. 


1 0 1}  n  %  ir  a 


JOHN  ADAMS 


H  that  I  could  have  a  home!     But  this  felicity  has 


never  been  permitted  me.    Rolling,  rolling,  rolling,  till 
I  am  very  near  rolling  into  the  bosom  of  mother  earth." 

Thus  wrote  the  venerable  John  Adams  to  his  wife,  in  the 
sixty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  and  the  last  of  his  Presidency.  A 
few  years  previous  he  had  uttered  the  same  sigh,  nor  is  it  in- 
frequent in  his  letters.  "  I  am  weary,  worn,  and  disgusted  to 
death.  I  had  rather  chop  wood,  dig  ditches,  and  make  fence 
upon  my  poor  little  farm.  Alas,  poor  farm !  and  poorer 
family !  what  have  you  lost  that  your  country  might  be  free  ! 


126         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

and  that  others  might  catch  fish  and  hunt  deer  and  bears  at 
their  ease ! " 

This  was  written  in  the  days  when  there  was  such  a  thing 
as  genuine  patriotism ;  when,  as  in  the  noble  Greek  and  Ro- 
man years,  there  lived  among  us  also  noble  men,  who  freely 
surrendered  all  that  life  offered  them  of  sweet  and  splendid,  to 
work  for  their  fellows,  and  to  exalt  their  country's  state,  con- 
tent that  old  age  should  find  them  poor  in  fortune  and  broken 
in  health,  so  only  that  integrity  remained,  and  a  serene  con- 
science led  them  undisturbed  to  the  end  of  life. 

Among  these  former  glories  of  our  Eepublic,  the  name  of 
John  Aclams  stands  in  the  clearest  sunlight  of  fame.  No 
purer  patriot  ever  lived.  The  names  which  dazzle  us  in  his- 
tory become  no  fables  when  read  by  his  light ;  Plutarch  tells 
no  nobler  story,  records  no  greater  claims ;  Athens  and  Sparta 
smile  upon  him  from  their  starry  places,  and  Rome  holds  out 
her  great  hand  of  fellowship  to  him — for  there  is  no  virtue 
which  has  lived  that,  may  not  live  again,  and  our  own  day 
shows  that  there  has  never  been  a  political  corruption  so  base 
as  to  despair  of  being  emulated. 

Concerning  the  civil  life  of  such  a  man,  much  might  with 
ease  be  written.  The  head  and  front  of  every  great  political 
movement  of  his  country,  from  his  thirtieth  year  to  the  day  of 
his  death  he  lived  no  obscure  life,  and  was  missed  from  no 
contest.  "The  great  pillar  of  support  to  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,"  as  Jefferson  called  him,  its  fearless  and  elo- 
quent defender,  the  right  hand  of  his  country's  diplomacy,  and 
the  strength  of  her  treaties,  he  is  a  portion  of  her  histoiy  and 
his  acts  are  her  annals.  But  this  devotion  to  the  great  politi- 
cal struggles  of  his  time  was  not  consistent  with  home  delight  s. 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


127 


These  he  was  to  scorn  and  to  live  laborious  days.  Early  im- 
mersed in  the  stirring  events  of  his  day,  he  surrendered  to  the 
duty  of  serving,  all  private  claims;  he  gave  up  his  profession, 
he  separated  liimself  from  his  wife  and  children  to  go  wherever 
he  could  be  useful ;  he  abandoned  a  mode  of  life  most  dear  to 
him ;  and  leaving  his  little  Sabine  farm  and  his  friendly  books, 
with  no  hopes  of  personal  aggrandizement,  and  small,  unjoyous 
prospect  of  success  in  the  venture  he  was  aiding,  went  out  to 
fight.  His  first  act  of  importance,  a  worthy  beginning  to  such 
career,  was  his  defence  of  Preston,  in  the  famous  trial  for  the 
murder  of  certain  citizens  of  Boston  by  British  soldiers^  in 
1770.  Preston  was  the  captain  of  the  British  troops  stationed 
in  Boston,  and  under  government  orders.  As  may  easily  be 
imagined,  in  the  uneasy  state  of  public  feeling,  exasperated  by 
real  injuries  and  petty  tyrannies,  suspicious,  discontented  and 
spurred  on  by  men  who  circulated  a  thousand  injurious  re- 
ports, the  people  and  the  foreign  soldiery  were  ready  at  any 
moment  to  break  out  into  open  quarrel.  Finally,  this  did  in- 
deed happen.  The  soldiery,  provoked  beyond  endurance,  re- 
sisted the  assaults  of  the  people,  and  fired  upon  them.  Cap- 
tain Preston  was  arrested  and  imprisoned  ;  five  citizens  had 
been  killed  and  many  wounded,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
the  people  were  restrained  from  rising  into  furious  rebellion. 
Preston  was  taken  to  prison  to  await  his  trial,  but  it  was  for  a 
time  impossible  to  obtain  counsel,  so  great  was  the  hatred  of 
the  people  to  the  soldiery,  and  so  strong  the  feeling  that  no 
man  would  be  safe  from  violence  who  would  attempt  to  defend 
these  foreigners  for  the  murder  of  his  own  fellow-citizens. 
John  Adams — then  a  rising  lawyer  in  Boston,  and  a  man  who 
had  already  given  hints  of  coming  greatness — was  sent  for  by 


128  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

the  unfortunate  captain,  who  begged  him  to  undertake  his 
cause.  "I  had  no  hesitation  in  answering/'  says  Adams  in  his 
autobiography,  "that  counsel  ought  to  be  the  very  last  thing 
that  an  accused  person  should  want  in  a  free  country ;  that  the 
bar  ought,  in  my  opinion,  to  be  independent  and  impartial  at 
all  times,  and  in  every  circumstance,  and  that  persons  whose 
lives  were  at  stake  ought  to  have  the  counsel  they  preferred. 
But  he  must  be  sensible  this  would  be  as  important  a  cause  as 
was  ever  tried  in  any  court  or  country  in  the  world ;  and  that 
every  lawyer  must  hold  himself  responsible,  not  only  to  his 
country,  but  to  the  highest  and  most  infallible  of  all  tribunals, 
for  the  part  he  should  act.  He  must  therefore  expect  from  me 
no  art  or  address,  no  sophistry  or  prevarication  in  such  a  cause, 
nor  anything  more  than  fact,  evidence,  and  law  would  justify." 
And  a  little  after  he  tells  us  what  it  cost  him  to  act  up  to  his 
own  standard  of  duty.  "At  this  time  I  had  more  business  at 
the  bar  than  any  man  in  the  province.  My  health  was  feeble. 
I  was  throwing  away  as  bright  prospects  as  any  man  ever  had 
before  him,  and  I  had  devoted  myself  to  endless  labor  and  anx- 
iety, if  not  to  infamy  and  to  death,  and  that  for  nothing,  ex- 
cept what  was  and  ought  to  be  all  in  all,  a  sense  of  duty. 
In  the  evening,  I  expressed  to  Mrs.  Adams  all  my  apprehen- 
sions. That  excellent  lady,  who  has  always  encouraged  me, 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  but  said  she  was  very  sensible  of  all 
the  danger  to  her  and  to  e>ur  children,  as  well  as  to  me,  but 
she  thought  I  had  done  as  I  ought ;  she  was  very  willing  to 
share  in  all  that  was  to  come,  and  to  place  her  trust  in  Provi- 
dence." 

Such  were  the  politicians  of  that  day ;  and  though  we  do 
not  doubt  that  private  virtue  as  much  abounds  with  us  as 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


129 


with  them,  and  that  as  great  private  sacrifices  as  this  was 
public  can  be  instanced  in  these  later  times,  yet  no  one  will  be 
so  hardy  as  to  say  that  any  politician  of  this  day  would  brave 
such  hazards  or  so  daringly  face  peril.  Politics  are  become  a 
trade  with  us.  The  curse  of  popular  governments  is  this,  that 
they  make  office  desirable  in  proportion  to  the  ease  with  which 
it  is  attained,  and  that  seeking  place  becomes  in  time  as  legiti- 
mate a  profession  as  seeking  oysters.  No  one  will  so  mock  at 
common  sense,  or  hold  the  judgments  of  his  fellow  spectators 
in  such  light  esteem,  as  to  aver  that  any  one  of  our  public 
men  serves  his  country  for  his  country's  sake,  or  for  any  better 
reason  than  because  it  is  conducive  to  bread  and  butter. 
Hence  it  is  with  us  a  jeer  and  a  by-word  to  talk  about  patriot- 
ism. The  fact  seems  to  be,  that  our  material  prosperity  is  so 
great,  our  resources  so  boundless,  our  outlook  so  glorious,  our 
liberty  so  well  assured — or  at  least  the  liberty  of  those  among 
us  who  are  white — that  there  is  no  call  for  sacrifice  and  patri- 
otic service.  The  country  is  rich  and  can  well  afford,  if  she 
will  be  served,  to  pay  the  servant ;  but  we  speak  of  devotion 
to  principle,  which  we  believe  is  clean  gone  out  from  us,  and 
can  be  predicated  of  no  public  man. 

John  Adams,  son  of  John  Adams  and  Susannah  Boylston 
Adams,  was  born  at  Quincy,  Massachusetts,  on  the  19th  day  of 
October,  1735.  He  received  the  best  education  that  the  times 
afforded,  graduated  at  Harvard  College,  and  afterward  com- 
menced the  study  of  divinity  with  a  view  to  the  ministry ;  at 
the  same  time  he  was  occupied  in  teaching  school,  that  uni- 
versal stepping-stone  in  New  England  to  professional  life.  In- 
deed, there  was  then  hardly  more  than  there  is  now  any  such 
thing  as  a  schoolmaster  by  profession ;  and  without  doubt  a  suf- 


130  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

firing  reason  for  the  fact  that  our  young  men  are  so  ineffi- 
ciently educated,  is,  that  the  teachers  are  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten  only  one  lesson  in  advance  of  their  scholars.  In  those 
days,  however,  the  schoolmaster  was  apt  to  be  a  person  of  some 
consequence.  He  held  a  position  very  often  next  in  impor- 
tance to  that  of  the  parson,  and  ruled  an  autocrat  over  his 
little  flock  of  beardless  citizens.  Nowhere  has  he  been  better 
described  than  in  "  Margaret/'  in  the  character  of  Master  El- 
hman,  whose  mingled  pompousness,  verbiage,  and  pedantry, 
admirably  represent  the  class  to  which  he  belonged.  But  the 
character  gradually  lost  its  individuality  as  society  advanced, 
until  at  length  the  great  bulk  of  teachers,  except  in  the  col- 
leges, were  merely  young  men  preparing  for  the  learned  pro- 
fessions. 

The  injurious  effect  of  this  state  of  things,  which  has  made 
a  very  decided  mark  upon  our  national  character,  we  will  not 
discuss  here,  but  it  is  well  to  note  the  differences  between  the 
manners  of  the  colonial  times,  and  those  of  our  present  day — 
and  of  these  differences  none  is  so  striking  as  the  great  decrease 
of  respect  in  which  professional  men  are  held  with  us  compared 
with  that  which  was  yielded  to  them  by  our  forefathers.  With 
them  the  schoolmaster,  the  parson,  the  physician,  the  lawyer, 
were  considered  and  treated  as  a  sort  of  sacred  nobility,  apart 
from  the  vulgar,  and  wholly  refusing  admixture  with  them  ; 
they  were  placed  in  the  seats  of  honor,  and  counted  among 
counsellors;  their  company  was  sought  by  the  wealthy  and 
the  educated,  their  acts  were  chronicled,  and  their  words  were 
echoed  from  mouth  to  mouth.  In  the  streets,  when  the 
schoolmaster  or  minister  appeared,  the  children  at  play  drew 
up  into  a  hurried  line,  took  off  their  caps,  made  deferential 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


131 


bows  and  listened  with  humility  to  the  greeting  or  word  of  ad- 
vice. Nowadays,  the  Pope  himself  would  be  hustled  in  an 
omnibus,  and  if  Master  Elliman  were  to  appear  in  the  streets 
and  offer  advice  to  the  children,  ten  to  one  but  that  they 
would  throw  dirt  at  him.  It  was  in  the  twilight  which  fol- 
lowed the  departing  day  of  these  venerable  times  and  pre- 
ceded the  coming  on  of  these  degenerate  darker  hours,  that 
John  Adams  became  a  pedagogue.  He  was  hardly  at  that 
age  fit  to  be  a  teacher.  He  was  thoughful,  ambitious  and  lofty 
in  his  aims,  but  he  was  also  somewhat  indolent  and  wanted 
persistency.  It  is  true  that  his  mind  was  hardly  made  up  as 
to  what  he  should  do  for  a  living.  We  have  said  that  he  be- 
gan with  studying  for  the  ministry,  but  he  tells  us  that  he  at 
one  time  read  much  in  medical  books,  and  inclined  to  the 
study  of  physic* 

Yet  I  imagine  that  his  inclination  to  either  of  these  pro- 
fessions was  never  very  strong.  His  education  at  Cambridge, 
then  the  high  seat  of  orthodoxy,  and  perhaps  the  advice  of  his 
parents,  his  father  holding  an  office  in  the  church  government 
of  his  town  of  some  importance  at  that  day,  may  have  led  his 
mind  in  the  direction  of  the  ministry,  and  his  studies  in  that 
line  were  very  regular  and  persistent  for  some  time.  Surgery 
and  medicine  had  probably  merely  the  fleeting  fascination  for 

*  "  Three  months  after  this  (during  the  second  quarter),  the  Selectmen 
procured  lodgings  for  me  at  Dr.  Nahum  Willard's.  This  physician  had  a  large 
practice,  a  good  reputation  for  skill,  and  a  pretty  library.  Here  were  Dr. 
Cheyne's  works,  Sydenham,  and  others,  and  Van  Swieten's  Commentaries  on 
Boerhaave.  I  read  a  good  deal  in  these  books,  and  entertained  many  thoughts 
of  becoming  a  physician  and  surgeon." — Works  of  John  Adams,  edited  by 
Charles  Francis  Adams — Vol.  II.,  p.  V. 


132         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

him  which  they  have  for  multitudes  of  eager  young  men,  striv- 
ing to  pry  into  all  the  subtile  secrets  of  nature,  and  to  find 
out  all  the  mysteries  which  environ  us.  But  as  he  says  of 
himself,  "  the  law  drew  me  more  and  more,"  and  in  his  Diary 
under  the  date  of  Sunday,  22d  of  August,  1756,  we  have  the 
following  entry : — 

"  Yesterday  I  completed  a  contract  with  Mr.  Putnam  to 
study  the  law,  under  his  inspection,  for  two  years.  I  ought  to 
begin  with  a  resolution  to  oblige  and  please  him  and  his  lady 
in  a  particular  manner  ;  I  ought  to  endeavor  to  please  every 
body,  but  them  in  particular.  Necessity  drove  me  to  this  de- 
termination, but  my  inclination,  I  think,  was  to  preach ;  how- 
ever, that  would  not  do.  But  I  set  out  with  firm  resolutions, 
I  think,  never  to  commit  any  meanness  or  injustice  in  the 
practice  of  law.  The  study  and  practice  of  law,  I  am  sure, 
does  not  dissolve  the  obligations  of  morality  or  of  religion; 
and,  although  the  reason  of  my  quitting  divinity  was  my 
opinion  concerning  some  disputed  points,  I  hope  I  shall  not 
give  reason  of  offence,  to  any  in  that  profession,  by  imprudent 
warmth." 

He  now  gave  up  his  school,  and  somewhat  changed  his 
maimer  of  life.  Before  we  leave  him  let  us  hear  his  quaint 
description  of  the  schoolboys  of  his  day — not  very  different 
from  the  youngsters  of  1853. 

"  15.  Monday  (1756). — I  sometimes  in  my  sprightly  mo- 
ments consider  myself  in  my  great  chair  at  school,  as  some 
dictator  at  the  head  of  a  commonwealth.  In  this  little  state 
I  can  discover  all  the  great  geniuses,  all  the  surprising  actions 
and  revolutions  of  the  great  world,  in  miniature.  I  have 
several  renowned  generals  not  three  feet  high,  and  several  deep 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


133 


projecting  politicians  in  petticoats.  I  have  others  catching 
and  dissecting  flies,  accumulating  remarkable  pebbles,  cockle- 
shells, &c,  with  as  ardent  curiosity  as  any  virtuoso  in  the 
Eoyal  Society.  Some  rattle  and  thunder  out  A,  B,  C,  with  as 
much  fire  and  impetuosity  as  Alexander  fought,  and  very  often 
sit  down  and  cry  as  heartily  upon  being  outspelt  as  Caasar  did, 
when  at  Alexander's  sepulchre  he  recollected  that  the  Mace- 
donian hero  had  conquered  the  world  before  his  age.  At  one 
table  sits  Mr.  Insipid,  foppling  and  fluttering,  spinning  his 
whirligig,  or  playing  with  his  fingers,  as  gayly  and  wittily  as 
any  Frenchified  coxcomb  brandishes  his  cane  or  rattles  his 
snuff-box.  At  another,  sits  the  polemical  divine,  plodding  and 
wrangling  in  his  mind  about  ( Adam's  fall,  in  which  we  sinned 
all/  as  his  Primer  has  it.  In  short,  my  little  school,  like  the 
great  world,  is  made  up  of  kings,  politicians,  divines,  L.  L.  D/s, 
fops,  buffoons,  fiddlers,  sycophants,  fools,  coxcombs,  chimney- 
sweepers, and  every  other  character  drawn  in  history,  or  seen 
in  the  world.  Is  it  not,  then,  the  highest  pleasure,  my  friend, 
to  preside  in  this  little  world,  to  bestow  the  proper  applause 
upon  virtuous  and  generous  actions,  to  blame  and  punish  every 
vicious  and  contracted  trick,  to  wear  out  of  the  tender  mind 
every  thing  that  is  mean  and  little,  and  fire  the  new-born  soul 
with  a  noble  ardor  and  emulation  ?  The  world  affords  us  no 
greater  pleasure.  Let  others  waste  their  bloom  of  fife  at  the 
card  or  billiard-table  among  rakes  or  fools,  and  when  their 
minds  are  sufficiently  fretted  with  losses,  and  inflamed  by 
wine,  ramble  through  the  streets,  assaulting  innocent  people, 
breaking  windows,  or  debauching  young  girls.  I  envy  not 
their  exalted  happiness.  I  had  rather  sit  in  school  and 
consider  which  of  my  pupils  will  turn  out  in  his  future  life  a 


134         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

hero,  and  which  a  rake,  which  a  philosopher,  and  which  a  para- 
site, than  change  breasts  with  them,  though  possessed  of  twenty 
laced  waistcoats  and  a  thousand  pounds  a  year."* 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  the  early  part  of 
the  "  Diary "  from  which  these  extracts  have  been  taken,  is 
the  perfect  simplicity  and  truthfulness  with  which  the  writer 
details  his  efforts  to  attain  steadfastness  of  purpose  and  dili- 
gence in  study.  He  feels  in  moments  of  reflection  the  value 
of  his  time  and  the  sacredness  of  duty ;  he  makes  the  best 
resolutions,  and  concocts  the  wisest  plans  for  improvement 
and  the  most  liberal  schemes  of  study ;  but  his  animal  spirits, 
which  flowed  on  in  cheerfulness,  even  to  his  latest  day  of  life, 
his  social  nature,  and  his  admiration  for  women,  all  played  sad 
pranks  with  his  resolves,  and  drew  out  from  him  many  a  re- 
pentant sigh  over  lost  and  wasted  time.  Yet  this  trouble 
ceases  almost  as  soon  as  he  begins  to  study  law  and  gives 
up  Iris  uncertain  dairyings  with  schoolkeeping,  divinity,  and 
medicine.  Having  once  put  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  he 
worked  with  vigor,  and  began  to  show  what  greatness  of  char- 
acter there  was  in  him.  Let  it  not  be  understood  from  what 
we  have  said,  that  J ohn  Adams  was  ever  a  seeker  after  low  or 
vulgar  pleasures.  More  than  once  in  his  "  Diary"  he  ridicules 
the  foolish,  extravagant,  licentious  amusements  of  the  young 
men  of  his  time.  Card-playing,  drinking,  backgammon,  smok- 
ing, and  swearing,  he  says  are  the  fashionable  means  of  getting 
rid  of  time,  which  excited  in  his  mind  only  contempt.  "  I 
know  not,"  he  says,  "how  any  young  fellow  can  study  in  this 
town.  What  pleasure  can  a  young  gentleman  who  is  capable 
of  thinking,  take  in  playing  cards  ?    It  gratifies  none  of  the 

*  Works  of  John  Adams — Vol.  II.,  page  9. 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


135 


senses,  neither  sight,  hearing,  taste,  smelling,  nor  feeling ;  it 
can  entertain  the  mind  only  by  hushing  its  clamors.  Cards, 
backgammon,  &c,  are  the  great  antidotes  to  reflection,  to 
thinking,  that  cruel  tyrant  within  us  !  What  learning  or 
sense  are  we  to  expect  from  young  gentlemen  in  whom  a  fond- 
ness for  cards,  &o,  outgrows  and  chokes  the  desire  of  know- 
ledge?" 

Up  to  the  time  of  his  commencing  the  study  of  law  with 
Mr.  Putnam,  John  Adams  had  resided  in  Braintree,  sharing 
in  the  social  intercourses  of  the  place,  its  tea-parties,  clubs  of 
young  men,  visiting  and  receiviug  visitors,  and  all  the  common 
civilities  of  countiy  life.  On  one  occasion,  we  find  him  taking 
tea  and  spending  the  evening  at  Mr.  Putnam's,  in  conversa- 
tion about  Christianity.  This  was  at  the  time  when  Adams 
was  studying  divinity,  and  it  is  evident  that  he  discussed  reli- 
gion and  theological  subjects  with  a  good  deal  of  interest,  since 
we  find  that  the  talk  at  almost  all  these  meetings  turns  in  that 
direction.  There  seems  to  have  been  a  decided  leaning  towards 
speculation  and  doubt  in  the  minds  of  many  men,  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Christianity,  at  that  day,  and  we  frequently  find  their 
opinion  very  frankly  expressed  in  the  "  Diary/'  and  left  almost 
without  comment  by  the  recorder.  He  was  very  fond  of  chat- 
ting with  his  neighbors  over  a  social  cup  of  tea,  sometimes 
after  a  day  spent  in  hard  study,  at  other  times  resting  from 
the  fatigues  of  attending  to  little  affairs  about  the  farm,  load- 
ing and  unloading  carts,  splitting  wood,  and  doing  other 
chores.  He  is  apt  to  be  a  little  impatient  with  himself. 
He  finds  it  easier  to  say  before  going  to  bed  that  he  will 
rise  at  six  than  to  get  up  when  the  hour  arrives.  Several 
days  in  the  "  Diary  "  bear  for  sole  record — "  Dreamed  away 


136         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

this  day,"  and  once  when  several  had  slipped  by  without  any 
seeming  good  result,  he  writes — "  Thursday,  Friday.  I  know 
not  what  became  of  these  days  and  again — "  Friday,  Satur- 
day, Sunday,  Monday.  All  spent  in  absolute  idleness,  or  which 
is  worse,  gallanting  the  girls."  The  next  day — "  Tuesday. 
Sat  down  and  recollected  myself,  and  read  a  little  in  Van 
Muyden,  a  little  in  Naval  Trade  and  Commerce." 

And  so  the  good  seems  always  leading  him  on,  always  elud- 
ing him,  and  playing  sad  momentary  havoc  with  his  peace  of 
mind.  But  he  consents  to  no  doubtful  terms  with  the  enemy. 
He  determined  to  conquer  the  foes  of  sloth,  inattention,  social 
indulgence,  and  do  his  whole  duty.  With  the  responsibilities 
of  time  came  the  cure  for  youthful  follies,  and  his  marriage  in 
the  thirtieth  year  of  his  age,  dealt  the  last  fatal  blow  to 
all  his  enemies.    In  1764  he  thus  writes  : — 

"  Here  it  may  be  proper  to  recollect  something  which 
makes  an  article  of  great  importance  in  the  life  of  every  man. 
I  was  of  an  amorous  disposition,  and,  very  early,  from  ten  or 
eleven  years  of  age,  was  very  fond  of  the  society  of  females. 
I  had  my  favorites  among  the  young  women,  and  spent  many 
of  my  evenings  in  their  company ;  and  this  disposition,  al- 
though controlled  for  seven  years  after  my  entrance  into  col- 
lege, returned,  and  engaged  me  too  much  till  I  was  married. 

"  I  shall  draw  no  characters,  nor  give  any  enumeration  of 
my  youthful  flames.  It  would  be  considered  as  no  compli- 
ment to  the  dead  or  the  living.  This  I  will  say : — they  were 
all  modest  and  virtuous  girls,  and  always  maintained  their 
character  through  life.  No  virgin  or  matron  ever  had  cause  to 
blush  at  the  sight  of  me,  or  to  regret  her  acquaintance  with 
me.    No  father,  brother,  son,  or  friend,  ever  had  cause  of 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


137 


grief  or  resentment  for  any  intercourse  between  me  and  any 
daughter,  sister,  mother,  or  any  relation  of  the  female  sex. 
These  reflections,  to  me  consolatory  beyond  all  expression,  I 
am  able  to  make  with  truth  and  sincerity ;  and  I  presume  I 
am  indebted  for  this  blessing  to  my  education. 

"  I  passed  the  summer  of  1764  in  attending  courts  and 
pursuing  my  studies,  with  some  amusement  on  my  little  farm, 
to  which  I  was  frequently  making  additions,  until  the  fall, 
when,  on  the  25th  of  October,  I  was  married  to  Miss  Smith, 
second  daughter  of  the  Kev.  William  Smith,  minister  of  Wey- 
mouth, granddaughter  of  the  Hon.  John  Quincy,  of  Braintree, 
a  connection  which  has  been  the  source  of  all  my  felicity,  al- 
though a  sense  of  duty,  which  forced  me  away  from  her  and 
my  children  for  so  many  years,  produced  all  the  griefs  of  my 
heart  and  all  that  I  esteem  real  afflictions  in  life."* 

In  1758,  his  term  of  study  with  Mr.  Putnam  being  ex- 
pired, John  Adams  left  Worcester,  having  determined  for 
several  reasons  not  to  settle  there,  but  to  establish  himself,  if 
possible,  in  Braintree,  where  his  father  and  mother  resided. 
They  had  invited  him  to  live  with  them,  and  he  says  that  as 
there  had  never  been  a  lawyer  in  any  country  part  of  the  county 
of  Suffolk,  he  was  determined  to  try  his  fortune  there.  His 
acquaintances  told  him  that  "the  town  of  Boston  was  full  of 
lawyers,  many  of  them  of  established  characters  for  long  expe- 
rience, great  abilities,  and  extensive  fame,  who  might  be  jeal- 
ous of  such  a  novelty  as  a  lawyer  in  the  country  part  of  their 
county,  and  might  be  induced  to  obstruct  me.  I  returned, 
that  I  was  not  wholly  unknown  to  some  of  the  most  celebrated 

*  The  Works  of  John  Adams — Vol.  II.,  p.  145. 


138  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

of  those  gentlemen ;  that  I  believed  they  had  too  much  candor 
and  generosity  to  injure  a  young  man ;  and,  at  all  events,  I 
could  try  the  experiment,  and  if  I  should  find  no  hope  of  suc- 
cess, I  should  then  think  of  some  other  place  or  some  other 
course."  The  result  was  that  he  established  himself  in  Brain- 
tree,  living  at  his  father's  house,  and  continuing  his  studies 
patiently  and  perseveringly  until  clients  began  to  appear. 
He  gives  an  amusing  account  of  his  first  "writ"  and  chroni- 
cles its  failure  with  a  nonchalant  stoicism  which  can  hardly 
conceal  his  vexation  at  being  laughed  at  by  his  acquaintances 
among  the  young  lawyers  of  the  town.  His  residence  in  Brain- 
tree  seems  to  have  been  a  pleasant  one.  He  had  much  leisure 
for  study  and  reading,  and  made  good  use  of  his  time.  He 
was  acquainted  with  all  the  people  of  consequence  in  the  town, 
and  was,  as  we  have  said,  fond  of  visiting,  calling  in  to  take  a 
social  pipe  or  glass,  as  was  the  fashion  of  the  day,  to  chat  with 
the  wife  or  daughter  of  the  house,  to  discuss  with  the  head  of 
the  family  the  last  political  bubble  of  the  hour,  the  prospect 
of  the  crops,  the  expediency  of  this  or  that  proceeding  in  the 
village,  or  any  of  the  local  topics  of  the  day.  Sometimes  we 
find  him  with  a  knot  of  young  fellows  met  together  of  an  even- 
ing, discussing  with  one  or  two  some  question  in  morals  or  rhe- 
toric, or  sitting  abstracted  with  a  book  or  his  pipe  on  one  side 
the  chimney,  the  room  filled  with  smoke,  the  rest  of  the  party 
engaged  in  card-playing,  backgammon,  or  other  sedative  game. 
At  another  time,  though  somewhat  later,  he  speaks  of  hearing 
a  the  ladies  talk  about  ribbon,  catgut,  and  Paris  net,  riding- 
hoods,  cloth,  silk,  and  lace ; "  and  again  he  has  a  pleasant  pic- 
ture of  taking  tea  at  his  grandfather  Quincy's — "  the  old  gen- 
tleman inquisitive  about  the  hearing  before  the  governor  and 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


139 


council,  about  the  governor's  and  secretary's  looks  and  beha- 
vior, and  about  the  final  determination  of  the  board.  The  old 
lady  as  merry  and  chatty  as  ever,  with  her  stories  out  of  the 
newspapers."  He  had  through  life  a  serene  equable  mind,  he 
took  the  kindness  and  unkindness  of  fortune  with  even  looks,  and 
preserved  his  relish  for  a  joke  undiminished,  in  all  his  circum- 
stances. We  have  before  us  two  portraits  of  John  Adams 
painted,  the  one  when  about  forty  years  of  age,  the  other  when 
he  was  ninety.  The  younger  likeness  is  a  face  of  remarkable 
beauty,  the  forehead  broad,  serene,  and  intelligent,  the  eye- 
brows dark  and  elegantly  arched  over  a  pair  of  eyes  which  we 
make  no  doubt  did  fierce  execution  among  the  young  women 
of  the  period  who  came  under  their  sparkling  influence.  The 
lips,  full,  finely  curved,  and  giving  an  expression  of  great  sweet- 
ness to  the  face,  are  yet  firmly  set,  and  combine  with  the  atti- 
tude of  the  head  to  convey  an  impression  of  haughtiness  and 
dignity.  The  chin  is  full,  rounded,  and  inclined  to  be  double  ; 
the  powdered  hair  and  the  stiff  coat  take  away  from  the  youth- 
ful appearance  of  the  picture.'""  The  other  portrait  is  from  an 
original  by  Gilbert  Stuart,  and  was  painted  when  John  Adams 
was  in  his  ninetieth  year.  At  this  time  he  was  obliged  to  be 
feci  from  a  spoon  ;  yet  no  one,  looking  at  this  noble,  vigorous 
head,  with  its  fine  color  and  magnificent  forehead,  would  sup- 
pose his  age  so  great.  The  beauty  of  the  young  man  has 
grown  into  the  fuller  nobility  of  a  face  in  which  there  appears 
no  trace  of  any  evil  passion,  no  mark  of  any  uneasy  thought, 
but  an  undisturbed  serenity  that  looks  back  on  life  and  awaits 

*  This  picture  is  engraved  in  the  "Life  and  Works,"  Vol.  IT.,  Frontispiece. 
We  are  obliged  to  guess  at  the  age  when  it  was  taken,  since  we  find  no  hint 
concerning  it — indeed  no  reference  to  the  picture  any  where  in  the  book. 


.140  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

death  with  the  happiest  memories  and  the  gladdest  anticipa- 
tions. 

In  17GS,  Mr.  Adams,  by  the  advice  of  his  friends,  who 
were  urgent  with  him,  removed  to  Boston,  and  took  the  house 
in  Brattle  Square  called  the  White  House.  His  son,  John 
Quincy  Adams,  was  born  the  year  before — his  life  commenced 
with  the  most  stirring  period  of  his  country's  history,  and  it 
was  his  good  fortune  to  bring  down  to  our  times  so  clear  a 
memory  of  those  events  as  to  make  a  conversation  with  him 
on  the  subject  an  era  in  the  life  of  an  American.  Shortly 
after  the  removal  of  John  Adams  to  Boston,  he  was  requested 
to  accept  an  office  under  government ;  but  although  it  was  of- 
fered to  him  without  respect  to  his  opinions,  which  were  well 
known  to  be  hostile  to  the  British  rule  in  Massachusetts,  and 
although  the  office  was  very  lucrative,  yet  he  insisted  on  re- 
fusing it,  because  he  feared  that  he  should  sacrifice  his  inde- 
pendence in  some  manner  to  the  influences  of  the  position. 
He  therefore  declined  any  connection  with  the  government, 
and  continued  the  practice  of  the  law,  which  had  now  become 
the  source  of  a  very  handsome  income,  and  was  leading  him 
by  rapid  steps  into  a  very  wide  and  honorable  repute. 

Before  leaving  Braintree,  John  Adams  had  become  accus- 
tomed to  a  great  deal  of  exercise,  riding  horseback  to  Boston, 
Germantown,  Weymouth,  and  other  adjoining  towns  ;  cutting 
down  trees,  superintending  planting  and  harvesting,  and  every 
way  taking  a  good  share  of  the  work  on  his  farm.  Some  of 
the  pleasantest  portions  of  the  "  Diary"  are  those  in  which  ho 
describes  this  part  of  his  life.  The  following  extract  gives  a 
moral  picture  of  his  habits : — ■ 

"  October,  22.  Friday.  Spent  last  Monday  in  taking  plea- 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


141 


sure  with  Mr.  Wibircl.  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 
Upon  this  part  of  the  peninsula  is  a  number  of  trees,  which 
appear  very  much  like  t he-lime  tree0  of  Europe,  which  gentle- 
tlemen  are  so  fond  of  planting  in  their  gardens  for  their 
beauty.  Keturned  to  Mr.  Borland's,f  dined,  and  afternoon 
rode  to  Germantown,  where  we  spent  our  evening.  Deacon 
Palmer  showed  us  his  lucerne  growing. in  his  garden,  of  which 
he  has  cut,  as  he  tells  us,  four  crops  this  year.  The  Deacon  had 
his  lucerne  seeds  of  Mr.  Greenleaf,  of  Abington,  who  had  his 
of  Judge  Oliver.  The  Deacon  watered  his  but  twice  this 
summer,  and  intends  to  expose  it  uncovered  to  all  the  weather 
of  the  winter  for  a  fair  trial,  whether  it  will  endure  our  winters 
or  not.  Each  of  his  four  crops  had  attained  a  good  length. 
It  has  a  rich  fragrance  for  a  grass.  He  showed  us  a  cut  of  it 
in  c Nature  Displayed/  and  another  of  St.  Foin,  and  another 
of  trefoil.  The  cut  of  the  lucerne  was  exact  enough ;  the  pod 
in  which  the  seeds  are  is  an  odd  thing,  a  kind  of  ram's-horn 
or  straw. 

"We  had  a  good  deal  of  conversation  upon  husbandry. 
The  Deacon  has  about  seventy  bushels  of  potatoes  this  year  on 
about  one  quarter  of  an  acre  of  ground.  Trees  of  several  sorts 
considered.  The  wild  cherry-tree  bears  a  fruit  of  some  value ; 
the  wood  is  very  good  for  the  cabinet-maker,  and  is  not  bad  to 
burn.  It  is  a  tree  of  much  beauty ;  its  leaves  and  bark  are 
handsome,  and  its  shape.  The  locust ;  good  timber,  fattening 
to  soil  by  its  leaves,  blossoms,  &c. ;  good  wood,  quick  growth, 

*  "  The  American  nettle-tree.  One  of  these  is  still  to  be  seen  growing  out 
of  the  top  of  the  rock  at  this  place." — Ed.  Life  and  Works. 

f  "This  is  the  mansion  afterwards  purchased  by  the  writer,  in  which  he 
lived  from  the  date  of  his  last  return  from  Europe  until  his  death  in  1826. — lb. 


142         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

&c.  The  larch-tree ;  there  is  but  one*  in  the  country,  that 
in  the  lieutenant-governor's  yard  at  Milton ;  it  looks  somewhat 
like  an  evergreen,  but  is  not ;  sheds  its  leaves. 

"  I  read  in  Thompson's  Travels  in  Turkey  in  Asia,  men- 
tion of  a  turpentine  called  by  the  name  of  turpentine  of 
Venice,  which  is  not  the  product  of  Venice,  but  of  Dauphine. 
and  flows  from  the  larch  tree.  It  is  thick  and  balsamic,  and 
used  in  several  arts,  particularly  that  of  enamelling. 

"  24.  Sunday.  Before  sunrise. — My  thoughts  have  taken 
a  sudden  turn  to  husbandry.  Have  contracted  with  Jo.  Field 
to  clear  my  swamp,  and  to  build  me  a  long  string  of  stone 
wall,  and  with  Isaac  to  build  me  sixteen  rods  more,  and  with 
Jo.  Field  to  build  me  six  rods  more.  And  my  thoughts  are 
running  continually  from  the  orchard  to  the  pasture,  and  from 
thence  to  the  swamp,  and  thence  to  the  house  and  barn,  and 
land  adjoining.  Sometimes  I  am  at  the  orchard  ploughing  up 
acre  after  acre,  planting,  pruning  apple-trees,  mending  fences, 
carting  dung ;  sometimes  in  the  pasture,  digging  stones,  clear- 
ing bushes,  pruning  trees,  building  to  redeem  posts  and  rails ; 
and  sometimes  removing  button-trees  down  to  my  house; 
sometimes  I  am  at  the  old  swamp  burning  bushes,  digging 
stumps  and  roots,  cutting  ditches  across  the  meadows  and 
against  my  uncle ;  and  am  sometimes  at  the  other  end  of  the 
town  buying  posts  and  rails  to  fence  against  my  uncle,  and 
against  the  brook ;  and  am  sometimes  ploughing  the  upland 
with  six  yoke  of  oxen,  and  planting  corn,  potatoes,  &c,  and 
digging  up  the  meadows  and  sowing  onions,  planting  cabbages, 
&c.,  &c.    Sometimes  I  am  at  the  homestead,  running  cross- 

*  This  tree  still  remains  in  fine  .condition  on  Milton  Hill. — Ed.  Life  and 
Works. 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


143 


fences,  and  planting  potatoes  by  the  acre,  and  corn  by  the  two 
acres,  and  running  a  ditch  along  the  line  between  me  and 
Field,  and  a  fence  along  the  brook  against  my  brother,  and 
another  ditch  in  the  middle  from  Field's  line  to  the  meadows. 
Sometimes  am  carting  gravel  from  the  neighboring  hills,  and 
sometimes  dust  from  the  streets  upon  the  fresh  meadows,  and 
am  sometimes  ploughing,  sometimes  digging  those  meadows  to 
introduce  clover  and  other  English  grasses."* 

Thus  passed  the  days  of  his  early  married  life  in  Brain- 
tree,  between  the  earnest  study  of  the  law,  the  participation 
in  social  intercourse  with  friends  and  neighbors,  and  occasional 
Bucolical  episodes.  In  1768,  as  we  have  said,  he  removed  to 
Boston,  and  but  seldom  went  into  the  country.  In  1771, 
however,  we  find  him  writing  as  follows : 

"  The  complicated  cares  of  my  legal  and  political  engage- 
ments, the  slender  diet  to  which  I  was  obliged  to  confine  my- 
self, the  air  of  the  town  of  Boston,  which  was  not  favorable  to 
me,  who  had  been  born  and  passed  almost  all  my  life  in  the  coun- 
try, but  especially  the  constant  obligation  to  speak  in  public, 
almost  every  day,  for  many  hours,  had  exhausted  my  health, 
brought  on  a  pain  in  my  breast,  and  a  complaint  in  my  lungs, 
which  seriously  threatened  my  life,  and  compelled  me  to  throw 
off  a  great  part  of  the  load  of  business,  both  public  and  pri- 
vate, and  return  to  my  farm  in  the  country.  Early  in  the 
Spring  of  1771,  I  removed  my  family  to  Braintree,  still  hold- 
ing, however,  an  office  in  Boston.  The  air  of  my  native  spot, 
and  the  fine  breezes  from  the  sea  on  one  side,  and  the  rocky 
mountains  of  pine  and  savin  on  the  other,  together  with  daily 
rides  on  horseback  and  the  amusements  of  agriculture,  always 


*  Life  and  Works— Vol.  EL,  p.  136-138. 


144         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

delightful  to  me,  soon  restored  my  health  in  a  considerable  de- 
gree. 

"April  16.  Tuesday  evening.  Last  Wednesday,  my  fur- 
niture was  all  removed  to  Braintree.  Saturday  I  carried  up 
my  wife  and  youngest  child,  and  spent  the  Sabbath  there  very 
agreeably.  On  the  20th  or  25th  of  April,  1768,  I  removed 
into  Boston.  In  the  three  years  I  have  spent  in  that  town, 
have  received  innumerable  civilities  from  many  of  the  inhabit- 
ants; many  expressions  of  their  good  will,  both  of  a  public 
and  private  nature.  Of  these  I  have  the  most  pleasing  and 
grateful  remembrance.  •       *       *       *       *  * 

"  Monday  morning  I  returned  to  town,  and  was  at  my 
office  before  nine.  I  find  I  shall  spend  more  time  in  my  office 
than  ever  I  did.  Now  my  family  is  away,  I  feel  no  inclina- 
tion at  all,  no  temptation,  to  be  any  where  but  at  my  office. 
I  am  in  it  by  six  in  the  morning,  I  am  in  it  at  nine  at  night, 
and  I  spend  but  a  small  space  of  time  in  running  down  to  my 
brother's  to  breakfast,  dinner,  and  tea.  Yesterday,  I  rode  to 
town  from  Braintree  before  nine,  attended  my  office  till  near 
two,  then  dined  and  went  over  the  ferry  to  Cambridge.  At- 
tended the  House  the  whole  afternoon,  returned  and  spent  the 
whole  evening  in  my  office  alone,  and  I  spent  the  time  much 
more  profitably,  as  well  as  pleasantly,  than  I  should  have  done 
at  club.  This  evening  is  spending  the  same  way.  In  the 
evening,  I  can  be  alone  at  my  office,  and  nowhere  else  ;  I 
never  could  in  my  family. 

"  18.  Thursday — Fast  day.  Tuesday  I  staid  at  my  office 
in  town ;  yesterday  went  up  to  Cambridge,  returned  at  night 
to  Boston,  and  to  Braintree, — still,  calm,  happy  Braintree, — 
at  nine  o'clock  at  night.    This  morning,  cast  my  eyes  out  to 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


145 


see  what  my  workmen  had  done  in  my  absence,  and  rode 
with  my  wife  over  to  Weymouth;  there  we  are  to  hear  young 
Blake — a  pretty  fellow. 

"  20.  Saturday.  Friday  morning  by  nine  o'clock,  arrived 
at  my  office  in  Boston,  and  this  afternoon  returned  ^  to  Brain- 
tree  ;  arrived  just  at  tea-time ;  drank  tea  with  my  wife.  Since 
this  hour,  a  week  ago,  I  have  led  a  life  active  enough ;  have 
been  to  Boston  twice,  to  Cambridge  twice,  to  Weymouth  once, 
and  attended  my  office  and  the  court  too. 

"  But  I  shall  be  no  more  perplexed  in  this  manner.  I 
shall  have  no  journeys  to  make  to  Cambridge,  no  General  Court 
to  attend  ;  but  shall  divide  my  time  between  Boston  and 
Braintree,  between  law  and  husbandry  '—fareivell  politics."* 

During  Mr.  Adams's  residence  in  Boston  he  did  not  always 
occupy  the  same  house.  In  April,  1768,  he  removed,  as  we 
have  said,  to  the  White  House  in  Brattle  Square.  In  the 
spring,  1769,  he  removed  to  Cole  Lane,  to  Mr.  Fayerweather's 
house.  In  1770,  he  removed  to  another  house  in  Brattle 
Square. 

In  1772  he  again  removed  to  Boston  with  his  family,  and 
finding,  as  he  says,  that  "it  was  very  troublesome  to  hire 
houses,  and  to  be  often  obliged  to  remove,  I  determined  to 
purchase  a  house,  and  Mr.  Hunt  offering  me  one  in  Queen- 
street,  near  the  scene  of  my  business,  opposite  the  Court  House, 
I  bought  it,  and  inconvenient  and  contracted  as  it  was,  I 
made  it  answer,  both  for  a  dwelling  and  an  office,  till  a  few 
weeks  before  the  19th  of  April,  1775,  when  the  war  com- 
menced." 

*  Life  and  Works— Vol.  II,  p.  255. 


146  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

"  In  1774  Mr.  Adams  was  arjpointed  delegate  to  the  first 
American  Congress  at  Philadelphia,  and  was  obliged  to  leave 
his  family  in  Braintree,  while  he  himself  remained  with  the 
Congress.  He  continued  to  reside  in  Philadelphia,  visiting  Ins 
family  but  seldom,  and  then  in  a  very  hurried  manner,  till  the 
year  1776,  when  he  was  appointed  commissioner  to  France  in 
the  place  of  Silas  Deane,  who  was  recalled.  The  treaty  with 
France  having  been  concluded  by  Dr.  Franklin  before  Mr. 
Adams  reached  Paris,  he  returned  home  after  an  absence  of  a 
year  and  a  half. 

Hardly  had  he  returned  before  he  was  again  dispatched  as 
Minister  to  the  Court  of  St.  James.  While  abroad  at  this 
time  he  made  some  stay  in  Paris,  was  afterwards  at  Amster- 
dam for  the  purpose  of  negotiating  a  loan  and  forming  a 
treaty  of  amity  and  commerce  with  Holland,  and  still  later,  in 
1785,  was  appointed  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  Great  Britain. 
During  all  this  time  he  had  been  separated  from  his  wife — a 
space  of  nearly  six  years — but  in  1784,  finding  that  there  was 
no  prospect  of  a  return,  he  sent  for  Mrs.  Adams  to  join  him  in 
London.  On  reaching  London,  Mrs.  Adams  found  that  her 
husband  was  in  Paris ;  her  son,  John  Quincy  Adams,  was  sent 
by  his  father  to  escort  his  mother  and  sister  to  France.  The 
letters  of  Mrs.  Adams,  describing  their  mode  of  life  in  Paris, 
or  rather  at  the  little  town  of  Auteuil,  and  also  those  which 
give  an  account  of  her  residence  in  London,  are  most  charm- 
ingly written,  and  we  wish  there  was  room  for  long  extracts 
from  them,  but  we  already  trespass  upon  the  reader's  kindness. 
We  have  space  for  only  one  pretty  domestic  picture. 

The  family  are  expecting  a  packet  of  letters  from  America, 
which  their  friend  Mr.  Charles  Storer  has  sent  from  London  to 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


147 


Paris.  They  had  some  difficulty  in  procuring  them  from  the 
post-office. 

"  About  eight  in  the  evening,  however,  they  were  brought 
in  and  safely  delivered,  to  our  great  joy.  "We  were  all  toge- 
ther. Mr.  Adams  in  his  easy  chair  upon  one  side  of  the  table, 
reading  Plato's  Laws ;  Mrs.  A.  upon  the  other,  reading  Mr. 
St.  John's  "Letters  Abby,  sitting  upon  the  left  hand,  in  a 
low  chair,  in  a  pensive  posture ; — enter  J.  Q.  A.  from  his  own 
room,  with  the  letters  in  his  hand,  tied  and  sealed  up,  as  if 
they  were  never  to  be  read ;  for  Charles  had  put  half  a  dozen 
new  covers  upon  them.  Mr.  A.  must  cut  and  undo  them  lei- 
surely, each  one  watching  with  eagerness.  Finally,  the  ori- 
ginals were  discovered;  cHere  is  one  for  you,  my  dear,  and 
here  is  another ;  and  here,  Miss  Abby,  are  four,  five,  upon  my 
word,  six,  for  you,  and  more  yet  for  your  mamma.  Well,  I 
fancy  I  shall  come  off  but  slenderly.  Only  one  for  me.'  '  Are 
there  none  for  me,  sir  ? '  says  Mr.  J.  Q.  A.,  erecting  his  head, 
and  walking  away  a  little  mortified." 

On  his  return  from  Europe,  Mr.  Adams  resided — whenever 
political  duties  permitted  his  absence  from  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment— at  the  mansion  in  Quincy,  the  name  by  which  the 
more  ancient  portion  of  Braintree  was  called. 

The  estate  was  purchased  after  the  revolution.  The  house 
had  been  built  long  before  by  one  of  the  Vassall  family,  a  well- 
known  republican  name  in  England  in  the  time  of  the  com- 
monwealth, some  members  of  which  had  transferred  themselves 
to  Jamaica  under  Cromwell's  projects  of  colonizing  that  island, 
and  from  thence  had  come  to  Massachusetts.  But  time  had 
changed  them  from  republicans  to  royalists,  and  when  the 
revolution  broke  out  they  were  on  the  side  of  the  mother 


148  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

country.  In  Quincy,  however,  the  race  had  run  into  females, 
and  the  house  belonged  to  a  descendant  by  the  name  of  Bor- 
land, who  sold  it  to  the  agent  of  Mr.  Adams.  It  was  then, 
however,  very  different  from  what  it  is  now.  Mr.  Adams 
nearly  doubled  the  size  of  it,  and  altered  the  front.  It  has 
since  been  altered  once  or  twice,  and  lately  by  the  present  oc- 
cupant, Mr.  Charles  Francis  Adams,  a  grandson  of  the  Presi- 
dent. 

In  this  house  Mr.  Adams  continued  to  reside  till  his  death 
in  1826.  During  the  time  that  he  was  in  Philadelphia  and 
Washington  as  President  and  Vice-President,  Mrs.  Adams  re- 
mained at  Quincy,  partly  on  account  of  her  health,  partly  to 
take  charge  of  her  husband's  private  property,  which  had 
never  been  large,  and  which  had  suffered  much  diminution 
from  the  expenses  incident  to  public  life. 

Mrs.  Adams's  account  of  her  residence  in  Washington — 
the  troubles  which  she  had  in  procuring  almost  the  necessaries 
of  life  in  that  out  of  the  way  settlement — her  description  of 
Washington  and  the  White  House  at  that  early  date,  have 
been  printed  too  often  in  newspapers  all  over  the  country,  to 
need  insertion  here.  Not  less  interesting  than  these  letters  are 
those  which  describe  her  life  in  Philadelphia;  her  little  sketches 
of  society  in  that  city,  then  the  seat  of  government,  have  all 
the  charms  which  the  unaffected  letters  of  an  elegant  woman 
cannot  fail  to  display. 

The  following  letter  will  conclude  our  article,  showing,  as 
it  does,  the  peaceful  occupations  of  this  happy  aged  couple, 
retired  to  their  beloved  home  to  await  the  inevitable  summons, 
to  which  they  looked  forward  with  the  beautiful  resignation  of 


JOHN  ADAMS. 


149 


minds  in  love  with  virtue,  and  conscious  of  no  offence  against 
the  laws  of  God  or  man. 

TO  THOMAS  B.  ADAMS. 

Quincy,  12  July,  1801. 

"My  Dear  Son: 

"lam  much  delighted  to  learn  that  you  intend  making  a 
visit  to  the  old  mansion.  I  wish  you  could  have  accomplished 
it  so  as  to  have  heen  here  by  this  time,  which  would  have 
given  you  an  opportunity  of  being  at  Commencement,  meeting 
many  of  your  old  acquaintances,  and  visiting  the  seat  of  science, 
where  you  received  your  first  rudiments. 

"  I  shall  look  daily  for  you.  You  will  find  your  father  in 
the  fields,  attending  to  his  haymakers,  and  your  mother  busily 
occupied  in  the  domestic  concerns  of  her  family.  I  regret 
that  a  fortnight  of  sharp  drought  has  shorn  many  of  the  beau- 
ties we  had  in  rich  luxuriance.  The  verdure  of  the  grass  has 
become  a  brown,  the  flowers  hang  their  heads,  droop,  and  fade, 
whilst  the  vegetable  world  languishes ;  yet  still  we  have  a  pure 
air.  The  crops  of  hay  have  been  abundant ;  upon  this  spot, 
where  eight  years  ago  we  cut  scarcely  six  tons,  we  now  have 
thirty.  c  We  are  here,  among  the  vast  and  noble  scenes  of 
nature,  where  we  walk  in  the  light  and  open  ways  of  the  divine 
bounty,  and  where  our  senses  are  feasted  with  the  clear  and 
genuine  taste  of  their  objects/         *       *       *       *  * 

"  I  am,  my  dear  Thomas,  affectionately,  your  mother, 

"Abigail  Adams." 

Mrs.  Adams  died  at  Quincy  on  the  28th  of  October,  1818, 
aged  seventy-four  years. 


150         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

John  Adams  died  at  the  good  age  of  ninety-one  years,  on 
the  4th  of  July,  1826.  We  thank  God,  as  he  did,  that  a  life 
spent  in  the  service  of  his  country  should  close  without  pain 
and  in  perfect  tranquillity  of  soul,  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
best  day  in  her  history,  and  a  day  with  which  his  name  is  for 
ever  associated  in  our  gratefullest  memories. 


fairirk  forg. 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


rpHERE  is  no  "Home  of  an  American  Statesman"  that 
-L  may  more  fitly  claim  the  leading  place  in  this  our  reposi- 
tory than  the  dwelling  of  Patrick  Henry — the  earliest,  the 
most  eloquent,  and  the  wisest  of  those  whose  high  counsels  first 
swayed  us  as  one  people  and  drew  us  to  a  common  cause  ; 
as  resolutely  as  ably  directed  that  cause  to  its  noble  event ; 
and,  in  a  word,  performing  in  the  civil  struggle  all  that  Wash- 
ington executed  in  the  military,  achieved  for  us  existence  as  a 
nation. 

In  the  Heroic  Age,  however,  such  as  was  to  us  the  Revo- 


154         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

lution,  men  build  not  monuments  nor  engrave  commemor- 
ative inscriptions:  those  of  nature,  identified  by  rude  but 
reverential  tradition,  alone  attest  where  the  founders  of  a  race, 
the  great  fathers  of  an  empire,  have  sprung. 

If  there  be,  among  the  many  men  of  that  brave  day,  one 
prompter  and  more  unfaltering  than  all  the  rest ;  if,  among 
all  who  moved  by  stirring  words  and  decisive  acts  the  general 
mind  of  the  country,  there  was  one  who  more  directly  than 
any,  or  than  all,  set  it  in  a  flame  not  to  be  extinguished ;  if 
amidst  those  lights  there  was  one,  the  day  star,  till  whose  com- 
ing there  was  no  dawn,  it  was  certainly  Henry.  It  is  true 
that,  before  him,  Massachusetts  had  her  quarrel  with  Eng- 
land, but  not  with  the  common  sympathy  of  the  colonies. 
For,  averse,  from  her  very  foundation,  to  not  merely  the  do- 
minion, but  the  very  institutions  of  the  mother  country,  she 
had  kept  up  with  it  a  continual  bickering,  religious  as  well  as 
civil ;  a  strife  at  best  local,  often  ill-tempered  and  factious ; 
so  that  her  too  frequent  broils,  commanding  little  regard, 
would  have  continued  to  come  to  nothing  had  not  an  opposi- 
tion to  English  measures  sprung  up  in  a  more  loyal  quarter. 
The  southern  colonies,  meanwhile,  had  always  loved  the  parent 
land,  both  church  and  state,  and  naturally  had  been  indul- 
gently dealt  with  by  its  legislation.  Thus,  until  that  ill-ad- 
vised measure,  the  Stamp  Act,  came,  to  affect  all  the  Ameri- 
can plantations  alike,  there  had  been  nothing  to  draw  us  to- 
gether in  a  common  cause,  a  common  resistance.  The  Stamp 
Act  gave  that  cause,  and  Henry  led  that  resistance.  Young, 
obscure,  unconnected,  unaided,  uncounselled,  and  even  un- 
countenanced,  he  yet,  by  the  sudden  splendor  of  his  eloquence, 
his  abilities,  and  his  dauntless  resolution,  carried  every  thing 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


155 


before  hirn  ;  animated  the  whole  land  to  a  determined  asser- 
tion of  their  rights  ;  established  for  himself  a  boundless  influ- 
ence over  the  popular  mind ;  used  it,  whenever  the  occasion 
came,  to  sound  the  signal  of  an  unshrinking  opposition  to 
every  encroachment ;  led  the  way,  independently  of  all  move- 
ments elsewhere  ;  devised  and  brought  about  every  main  mea- 
sure of  preparation  ;  rejected  all  compromise  ;  clearly  the  first 
to  see  the  certain  issue  of  the  contest  in  European  interposi- 
tion and  the  establishment  of  our  Independence,  pursued 
steadily  that  aim  before  even  he  could  openly  avow  it :  and 
finally,  when  things  were  ripe,  assumed  it  for  his  State,  in- 
structed her  deputation  to  propose  it  to  all  the  rest,  and  in- 
deed, involved  them  in  it  beyond  avoidance,  by  setting  up  a 
regular  and  permanent  Kepublican  Constitution  in  Virginia  ; 
a  step  that  allowed  no  retreat,  and  was  not  less  decisive  than 
the  heroical  act  of  Cortez,  when,  marching  upon  Mexico  from 
his  landing-place,  he  burnt  his  vessels  behind  him.  Henry 
was,  in  a  word,  the  Moses  who  led  us  forth  from  the  house  of 
bondage.  If  there  had  been  an  opposition  before  his,  it  was 
not  the  appointed,  and  would  have  been  an  ineffectual  one. 
There  had,  no  doubt,  been  Jews  enough  that  murmured,  even 
before  he  who  was  to  deliver  them  appeared.  We  may,  there- 
fore, fitly  apply  to  Henry,  in  regard  to  the  bringing  about  of 
our  Independence,  all  that  Dryden  so  finely  said  of  Bacon  in 
science : 

"  Bacon,  like  Moses,  led  us  forth,  at  last : 
The  barren  wilderness  he  passed ; 
Did  on  the  very  border  stand 
Of  the  blest  promised  land ; 
And  from  the  mountain-top  of  his  exalted  wit, 
Saw  it  himself  and  showed  us  it." 


156         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

And  yet  Henry,  like  nearly  all  his  illustrious  fellow-laborers 
of  freedom,  sleeps  in  an  undistinguished  grave.  At  his  death, 
party  spirit  denied  to  his  memory  the  tokens  of  public  admira- 
tion and  regret,  offered  in  that  very  legislature  of  which  he 
had  been  the  great  light,  and  which,  indeed,  he  had  called 
into  being.  Since  that  sorry  failure — for  all  faction  should 
have  been  hushed  over  the  body  of  a  citizen  and  a  man  so  ad- 
mirable— no  further  notice  has  been  taken  of  hini ;  and  he 
who  merited  a  national  monument,  only  less  proud  than  that 
due  to  Washington  himself,  slumbers  beneath  an  humble 
private  one  at  Ked  Hill,  the  secluded  residence  where  he 
died. 

But  we  turn  to  those  personal  particulars  of  this  extra- 
ordinary man  which  are  appropriate  to  the  design  of  the  pre- 
sent volume.  Not  a  few  of  them  will  be  found  to  involve  im- 
portant corrections  of  the  received  account  of  his  early  years, 
and  a  new  view,  therefore,  of  his  genius  and  character. 

In  that  received  account,  his  sole  original  biographer,  Mr. 
Wirt — writing  without  any  personal  knowledge  of  him,  and 
neglecting  to  consult  the  most  obvious  and  authentic  source  of 
information,  his  four  surviving  sisters,  ladies  of  condition  and  of 
remarkable  intelligence — has  fallen  into  the  vulgar  error,  to 
which  the  peculiar  position  and  fortunes  of  Mr.  Henry  at  first 
gave  rise,  and  which  he  afterwards,  for  warrantable  political 
purposes,  encouraged.  When  he  suddenly  burst  out  from 
complete  obscurity,  an  unrivalled  orator,  a  consummate  poli- 
tician, and  snatched  the  control  of  legislation  and  of  the  pub- 
lic mind  from  the  veteran,  the  college-bred,  the  wealthy  and 
high-born  leaders  who  had  till  then  held  it,  the  homeliness  of 
dress  which  befitted  his  narrow  circumstances,  the  humility  of 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


157 


aspect  and  the  simplicity  of  manners,  which  were  unaffected 
traits  of  his  disposition,  naturally  assigned  him  in  the  eyes 
of  both  those  who  were  of  it  and  of  those  who  looked  down 
upon  it,  to  the  plebeian  class.  It  suited  the  envy  of  these,  it 
delighted  the  admiration  of  those,  to  regard  him — that  unin- 
telligible marvel  of  abilities,  which  had  thus  all  at  once  effaced 
every  thing  else — as  a  mere  child  of  the  people.  The  really 
skilful,  who  understand  intellectual  prodigies  and  never  refer 
them  to  ignorance  or  chance,  must  have  seen  at  once,  through 
the  cloud  in  which  he  stood,  a  great  and  an  enlightened  un- 
derstanding, too  competent  to  a  high  and  a  complex  public 
question,  not  to  be  strong  in  knowledge  as  well  as  faculties. 
The  few  cannot  have  mistaken  him  for  that  fabulous  thing, 
an  ignorant  genius ;  for  they  must  have  seen  in  his  command- 
ing and  complete  eloquence  the  art,  in  his  masterly  measures 
the  information,  of  one  thoroughly  trained,  though  in  secret, 
to  the  business  of  swaying  men's  minds,  and  of  conducting 
their  counsels,  though  hitherto  apart  from  them.  All  but  this 
highest  class,  however,  of  the  rivals  whom  he  at  once  threw 
into  eclipse  naturally  sought  to  depreciate  him  as  a  mere  de- 
claimer,  a  tribunitian  orator,  voluble  and  vehement  as  he  was 
rude,  rash,  and  illiterate.  Could  the  tapers  that,  at  Belshaz- 
zar's  feast,  went  out  before  the  blaze  of  that  marvellous  hand- 
writing on  the  wall,  have  been  afterwards  permitted  to  give  their 
opinion  of  it,  they  would,  of  course,  have  talked  disdainfully  of 
its  beam,  as  mere  phosphorus  or  some  other  low  pyrotechnic  trick. 
Such  was  the  reputation  which  the  vanquished  magnates  in  gen- 
eral, and  their  followers,  endeavored  to  fix  upon  the  young  sub- 
verter  of  their  ascendency.  He  was  not  of  one  of  the  old  aristo- 
cratic families  ;  he  was  a  low  person,  therefore  he  had  never  been 


158         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

within  the  walls  of  a  college,  still  less  had  he,  like  many  of 
them,  finished,  with  the  graces  of  foreign  travel,  a  public  dis- 
cipline of  learning ;  he  was,  therefore,  by  their  report,  illiter- 
ate, although,  certainly,  in  his  performances,  all  the  best  ef- 
fects of  education  were  manifest,  without  its  parade.  While 
they  called  him  ignorant,  he  always  proved  himself  to  know 
whatever  the  occasion  demanded,  and  able  victoriously  to  in- 
struct foe  and  friend.  Shunning,  from  his  sense,  all  assump- 
tion, and  from  his  modesty,  all  display,  he  never  pulled  out 
the  purse  of  his  acquirements  to  chink  it  merely,  but  only  to 
pay  ;  so  that  no  man  could  tell  what  he  had  left  in  the  bottom 
of  his  pocket ;  and  thus,  a  ragged-looking  Fortunatus,  he  al- 
ways surprised  men  with  his  unguessed  resources.  Strange 
powers,  undoubtedly,  he  had,  that  must  have  not  a  little  con- 
founded the  judgment  of  the  best  observers ;  unexercised  in 
the  forum,  he  had  risen  up  a  consummate  master  of  the  whole 
art  of  moving  in  discourse  the  understanding  or  the  passions ; 
unpractised  in  public  affairs,  he  had  only  to  appear  in  them, 
in  order  to  stand  the  first  politician  of  his  day  ;  unversed  in 
the  business  and  the  strategy  of  deliberative  assemblies,  he  had 
only  to  become  a  member  of  one,  in  order  to  be  its  adroitest 
parliamentary  tactician.  As  he  was  dexterous  without  prac- 
tice, so  was  he  prudent  without  experience  ;  for,  from  the  first 
he  shone  out  as  the  wisest  man  in  all  the  public  councils.  He 
seems  to  have  escaped  all  that  tribute  of  error  which  youth 
must  almost  invariably  pay,  as  the  price  of  eminence  in  public 
affairs  ;  he  fell  into  no  theory,  he  indulged  no  vision,  he  never 
once  committed  a  blunder ;  in  short,  ripe  from  the  beginning, 
he  appeared  to  be  by  instinct  and  the  mere  gift  of  nature, 
whatever  others  slowly  become  only  by  the  aid  of  art  and  expe- 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


159 


rience.  Bred  up  in  seclusion,  though  (as  the  high  cultivation 
of  Ins  sisters  testified  to  all  who  knew  them)  in  a  household 
whose  very  atmosphere  was  knowledge,  he  had,  beyond  a  good 
acquaintance  with  Latin,  the  rudiments  of  Greek,  French, 
mathematics,  and  an  early  familiarity  with  the  best  English 
authors — those  of  the  Elizabethan  age,  of  the  Commonwealth, 
and  of  Queen  Anne's  day — received  little  direct  instruction  ; 
none,  but  from  his  father  and  books,  his  early  companions  ?  so 
that  his  scholastic  instruction  was  really  slender.  But  he  had 
been  taught,  betimes,  to  love  knowledge  and  how  to  work  it 
out  for  himself;  how,  in  a  word,  to  accomplish  what  best  un- 
folds a  great  genius,  self-education.  For  schools  and  colleges 
— admirable  contrivances  as  they  are  for  keeping  up  among 
mankind  a  common  method  and  a  common  stock  of  informa- 
tion— are  but  suited,  as  they  were  but  designed,  for  the  com- 
mon run  of  men.  Applying  to  all  the  same  mechanical  pro- 
cess ;  bringing  to  the  same  level  the  genius  and  the  dunce, 
they  act  excellently  to  repair  the  original  inequality,  some- 
times so  vast,  with  which  nature  deals  out  understanding 
among  the  human  race.  In  a  word,  they  are  capital  machines 
for  bringing  about  an  average  of  talent  ;  but  it  is  at  the  expense 
of  those  bright  parts  which  occasionally  come,  that  they  do  it. 
Their  methods  clap  in  the  same  couples  him  who  can  but 
creep  and  him  who  would  soar ;  harness  in  the  same  cart  the 
plough-horse  and  the  courser.  The  highest  genius  must  be 
its  own  sole  method-maker,  its  own  entire  rule.  From  what 
it  has  done,  rules  are  deduced  ;  but  for  its  inferiors,  not  for 
it :  its  whole  existence  is  exceptional,  original ;  and  whatever, 
in  its  disciplining,  would  tend  to  make  it  otherwise,  serves  but 
to  check  and  to  diminish  its  development. 


160         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

No  greater  error,  therefore,  than  to  suppose  that  a  man  as 
extraordinary  as  Patrick  Henry,  who,  mature  from  the  first, 
rose  up  a  consummate  speaker  and  reasoner,  and,  amongst 
men  of  large  abilities,  knowledge,  and  experience,  constantly 
showed  himself,  in  matters  the  weightiest  and  the  most  diffi- 
cult, superior  to  them  all,  could  have  been  uneducated.  In 
reality  he  had  learned  of  the  best  possible  master,  for  such  a 
man — himself.  That  he  knew,  that  he  even  knew  more  sol- 
idly, because  more  effectually  and  to  the  purpose,  than  all 
those  around  him,  the  great  subjects  with  which  he  dealt  so 
wonderfully,  is  beyond  all  question.  Now,  though  the  genius 
of  Mr.  Henry  was  prodigious,  and  though  there  be  things 
which  genius  does,  as  it  were,  intuitively  and  spontaneously, 
there  are  other  things  which  are  not  knowable,  even  by  genius 
itself,  without  study  ;  which  the  utmost  genius  cannot  extem- 
porize, cannot  produce  from  nothing,  cannot  make  without 
their  materials  previously  amassed  in  its  mind,  cannot  under- 
stand without  their  necessary  particulars  accumulated  in  ad- 
vance; and  it  was  in  just  such  things — the  highest  civil 
ability,  which  comes  of  wisdom,  not  genius  ;  the  greatest  elo- 
quence which  cannot  be  formed  but  by  infinite  art  and  labor — 
that  he  stood  up  at  all  times  supreme.  The  sagacity  of 
statesmanship  with  which  he  looked  through  the  untried  af- 
fairs of  this  country,  saw  through  systems  and  foretold  conse- 
quences, has  never  been  surpassed  ;  and  his  eloquence,  judged 
(as  we  have  alone  the  means  of  judging  it)  by  its  effects,  has 
never  been  equalled. 

Such  then,  even  upon  the  traditionary  facts  out  of  which 
his  biographer  has  shaped  into  a  mere  fable  his  sudden  rise 
and  his  anomalous  abilities,  is,  of  necessity,  the  rational  theory 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


161 


of  Mr.  Henry's  greatness.  But,  without  any  resort  to  induc- 
tion, the  simple  truth,  if  Mr.  Wirt  had  sought  it  in  the  na- 
tural quarter,  would  have  conducted  him  to  the  same  conclu- 
sions as  we  have  just  set  forth. 

At  the  time  when  Mr.  Wirt  collected  his  materials,  he  was 
yet,  though  of  fine  natural  abilities,  by  no  means  the  solid  man 
that  he  by  and  by  became.  His  fancy  was  exuberant,  his 
taste  florid,  his  judgment  unformed.  Himself  in  high  repute 
for  a  youthful  and  gaudy  eloquence,  which,  however,  he  after- 
wards exchanged  for  a  style  of  great  severity  and  vigor — he 
had  been  urged  to  his  immature  and  ambitious  undertaking, 
by  admirers  who  conceived  him  to  be  little  less  than  a  second 
Henry.  His  besetting  idea  seems  to  be  much  akin  to  Dr. 
Johnson's  "who  drives  fat  oxen  should  himself  be  fat : "  namely 
that  the  life  of  a  great  orator  should  be  written  by  a  great 
orator ;  and  that  he  was  to  show  not  only  Mr.  Henry  but  him- 
self eloquent.  In  general  his  book  does  him  credit,  as  merely 
a  literary  performance,  although  sadly  deformed,  in  what  were 
intended  for  its  best  passages,  by  an  inflation  of  which  he  must 
have  been  afterwards  greatly  ashamed,  as  a  sin  against  all 
style,  but  especially  that  proper  to  his  subject — the  historic. 
Let  us  add — in  simple  justice  to  a  man  of  great  virtues  and  ele- 
vation, as  well  as  gentleness  of  mind  and  feelings,  whose  mem- 
ory has  upon  us,  besides,  the  claim  of  public  respect  and  of 
hereditary  friendship — that  his  biography,  wherever  his  own,  is; 
in  spite  of  party  spirit,  written  with  the  most  honorable  candor, 
and  vindicates  Mr.  Henry  with  equal  fairness  and  ability  from 
the  aspersions  cast  upon  his  conduct  in  the  "  Alien  and  Sedi- 
tion "  business  by  the  Jeffersonian  faction.  Wherever  he  (Mr. 
Wirt)  has  depended  upon  his  own  researches  alone,  he  displays 


162  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

both  diligence  and  discrimination ;  but  unhappily,  he  accepted 
the  loose  popular  traditions,  which  are  never  any  thing  but  a 
tissue  of  old  women's  talcs  ;  he  relied  upon  a  mass  of  casual 
contributions,  chiefly  derived  from  the  same  legendary  sources 
or  from  uncertain,  confused,  and  (as  himself  lets  us  see)  often 
contradictory  memories  ;  and  above  all,  he  adopted  implicitly 
the  information  supplied  by  a  certain  Thomas  Jefferson  ;  who, 
besides  being  a  person  of  whom  the  sagacious  and  uprigkt 
Henry  cherished  a  very  ill  opinion — so  that  he  could  not  well 
be  supposed  a  very  special  repository  of  the  orator's  personal 
confidences — was  a  gentleman  who  had  all  his  fife  driven  rather 
the  largest  and  most  lucrative  trade  in  the  calumny  of  nearly 
all  the  best  and  greatest  of  his  contemporaries,  that  has  ever 
been  carried  on  in  these  United  States,  much  as  that  sort  of 
commerce  has  long  flourished  and  yet  flourishes  amongst  us. 
Upon  such  things  he  had  come  to  a  splendid  political  fortune 
while  he  lived,  and  when  he  died,  with  a  pious  solicitude  to 
provide  for  his  posterity,  he  bequeathed  to  his  grandson  all  the 
unspent  capital  stock  of  his  slanders  (his  Memoirs  and  Ana)  to 
carry  on  the  old  business  with  and  keep  up  the  greatness  of 
the  family. 

The  effect  of  all  this  was  to  turn  what  before  was  strange 
or  obscure,  in  Henry's  history,  into  little  better  than  a  fable, 
a  sort  of  popular  and  poetic  myth  of  eloquence,  in  which  the 
great  speaker  and  statesman  fades  away  into  a  fiction,  a  mere 
creation  of  the  fancy,  scarcely  more  real  or  probable  than  the 
account  in  old  Master  Tooke's  "  Pantheon,"  of  Orpheus's  draw- 
ing the  rocks  and  trees  and  the  very  wild  beasts  along  with 
him  by  his  powers  of  song.  Nay,  in  one  main  point,  Master 
Tooke's  legend  more  consults  verisimilitude :  for  he,  instead  of 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


163 


shocking  all  probability  by  representing  his  hero  to  have  been 
without  education,  sends  him  as  private  pupil  to  the  Muses 
themselves,  who  are  reputed  to  have  kept,  then  as  now,  the  best 
Greek  and  Latin  colleges  a-going. 

It  is  certainly  true,  in  excuse  for  all  this,  that  the  mighty 
men  who,  for  their  exploits  and  services,  became  the  demi- 
gods of  fable,  "the  fair  humanities  of  old  religion,"  had 
scarcely  more  struck  the  excited  imagination  of  their  times 
than  had  Henry.  Like  theirs  was  the  obscurity  of  his  birth, 
the  mystery  of  his  education,  the  marvel  of  his  achievements. 
Of  his  many  great  speeches,  scarcely  one  uncorrupted  passage 
can  be  said  to  survive  ;  so  that  even  of  that  which  all  felt  and 
know  we  have  but  the  faintest  shadow.  A  fragmentary 
thought  is  all  of  genuine  that  is  left  us  out  of  a  whole  immor- 
tal harangue ;  some  powerful  ejaculation  stands  for  an  entire 
oration,  and  dimly  suggests,  not  explains  its  astonishing  effects. 
To  all  purpose  historic  of  his  eloquence,  he  might  just  as  well 
have  lived  before  alphabetic  writing  was  invented.  At  best, 
the  oratory  that  entrances,  agitates,  enraptures,  transports 
every  man  in  a  whole  assembly,  and  hurries  him  totally  away, 
thrilling  and  frenzied  with  sensations  as  vehement  as  novel, 
sets  all  reporting,  all  stenography  at  defiance.  Before  it,  short- 
hand— at  most,  the  dim  reflection  of  such  things  ;  a  cold  copy, 
a  poor  parody  where  it  is  not  a  burlesque  of  speech  in  its  great 
bursts — drops  its  pen,  and  forgets  even  to  translate ;  which, 
after  all  Qiaud  inexpertus  loquor),  is  the  utmost  it  can  do. 
But  of  not  even  such  translation  did  Mr.  Henry,  upon  any  oc- 
casion but  two,*  receive  the  advantage  such  as  it  is.  Every 

*  The  debates  in  the  Virginia  Convention  on  the  Federal  Constitution,  and 
his  forensic  argument  against  the  recovery  of  the  forfeited  British  debts. 


164         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

where  in  these  the  single  but  skilful  reporter  confesses,  by  many 
a  summary  in  parenthesis,  that  at  certain  passages  he  lost 
himself  in  the  speaker,  and  could  not  even  attempt  to  render 
him.  Thus  it  comes  that,  of  his  transcendent  harangues — 
those  which  made  or  directed  the  Revolution — we  have  only  a 
few  scattered  sentences,  and  the  seemingly  amazed  descriptions 
which  attest  their  extraordinary  effects.  There  is  but  one  ex- 
ception :  a  version,  to  appearance  tolerably  entire,  though  still 
evidently  but  a  sketch,  of  his  "Liberty  or  Death"  speech, 
when,  on  the  20th  March,  1775,  he  told  the  Convention  of 
Virginia,  assembled  in  the  "  Old  Church "  at  Richmond  (St. 
Johns),  that  "  they  must  fight,"  and  moved  to  arm  and  organ- 
ize the  militia.  This,  even  in  its  existing  form,  is  a  prodi- 
giously noble  speech,  full  of  vigor  in  the  argument,  full  of  pas- 
sion in  the  appeals,  breathing  every  where  the  utmost  fire  of 
the  warrior,  orator,  patriot,  and  sage.  Fitly  uttered,  it  is  still 
— though  of  course  it  must  have  lost  greatly  in  the  transmis- 
sion— a  discourse  to  rouse  a  whole  nation  invincibly  to  arms, 
if  their  cause  and  their  courage  were  worthy  of  it.  That 
speech  evidently,  and  that  speech  alone,  is,  in  the  main,  the 
true  thunder  of  Henry  :  all  the  others  are  but  the  mustard- 
bowl. 

But  though  from  all  these  causes,  he  already,  in  Mr.  Wirt's 
day,  stood,  as  seen  through  the  fast-gathered  haze  of  tradition, 
a  huge  but  shadowy  figure,  it  was  the  business  of  the  biogra- 
pher, instead  of  merely  showing  him  to  us  in  that  popular 
light,  to  set  him  in  a  true  one.  The  critical  historian  clears 
up  such  mists,  defines  such  shadows,  and  calls  them  back  not 
only  to  substance  but  proportion,  color,  life,  the  very  pressure 
and  body  of  the  times.    What  if  the  historic  truth  had  passed 


Old  Church,  Richmond,  Va. 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


165 


into  a  poetic  fable  ?  Mr.  Wirt  should  have  dealt  with  it,  not 
as  a  bard,  a  rhapsodist,  but  a  philosophical  mythologist,  who 
from  fable  itself  sifts  out  the  unwritten  facts  of  a  day,  when 
fable  was  the  only  form  of  history. 

Besides,  however,  adopting  for  the  fundamental  facts  of 
Mr.  Henry's  character  all  these  false  sources,  his  biographer 
utterly  neglected  (as  we  have  already  intimated)  the  most  ob- 
vious and  the  most  natural  ones.  He  had  then  four  surviving 
sisters,  women  not  merely  of  condition  but  intellectually  re- 
markable. To  none  of  these  did  Mr.  Wirt  resort  for  any  do- 
mestic particulars  of  his  early  life,  which  of  course  none  knew 
so  well  as  they.  Well  acquainted  with  them  all — sprung  from 
one  of  them — we  have  cause  to  know  the  astonishment  with 
which  they  met  this  written  account  of  his  early  years  and  his 
breeding  up.  Had  Mr.  Wirt  personally  known  these  highly 
cultivated  and  very  superior  ladies,  distinguished  as  they  were 
for  the  completeness  and  solidity  of  their  old-fashioned  educa- 
tion, he  must  have  seen  at  once  that  his  own  story  of  Henry's 
youthful  institution  and  ways  is  about  as  true  as  it  is  that 
Achilles  was  born  of  a  sea-goddess,  had  a  centaur  for  his  private 
tutor,  and  was  fed  upon  lion's  marrow  to  make  him  valiant. 

His  very  lineage  was  literary.  His  father,  John  Henry,  a 
Scottish  gentleman  of  Aberdeen,  was  a  man  of  good  birth,  of 
learned  education,  and,  when  he  migrated  to  Virginia,  of  easy 
fortune.  He  was  the  nephew  of  Robertson,  the  great  historian 
of  his  own  country  and  of  ours.  The  name  of  his  mother, 
J ane  Robertson,  an  admirable  and  accomplished  person,  is  still 
preserved  and  transmitted  among  her  female  descendants. 
His  cousin,  David  Henry,  was  the  associate  editor  of  the 
"Gentleman's  Magazine,"  then  a  leading  publication,  with 


166  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Edward  Cave,  the  last  of  the  learned  printers ;  whose  brother- 
in-law  and  successor  he  became.  The  family  bred  many  of 
its  members  for  the  church,  which  in  Britain  implies  such  in- 
fluence as  secures  preferment.  John's  younger  brother,  Patrick, 
thus  taking  orders,  received  a  rectorship  near  him,  and  followed 
him  to  this  country.  In  those  days  of  Episcopacy,  benefices 
drew  after  them  not  merely  comfortable  reverence,  but  goodly 
emolument  and  even  authority  in  civil  life  ;  so  that  the  par- 
sons were  a  power  in  the  State.  All  this  Patrick,  a  man  wor- 
thy of  it,  employed.  His  brother  already  possessed  it ;  and 
thus  both  took  their  station  among  the  gentry,  though  not  the 
aristocracy,  of  the  land — its  untitled  nobility :  for,  in  effect, 
such  an  order,  sustained  by  primogeniture  and  entails,  then  ex- 
isted throughout  lower  or  tide-water  Virginia. 

John  attained  to  the  command  of  the  regiment  of  his 
county,  to  its  surveyorship,  and  to  the  presiding  chair  of  its 
magistracy ;  stations  then  never  conferred  but  upon  leading 
men  in  the  community.  More  careless,  however,  of  his  private 
interests  than  of  the  public,  without  exactly  wasting  his  for- 
tune, he  gradually  frittered  it  away ;  and  though  he  repaired 
it  for  a  time,  by  an  advantageous  marriage  with  the  young  and 
wealthy  widow  (a  Winston  by  birth)  of  his  most  intimate 
friend,  Col.  John  Syme,  of  the  Kocky  Mills,  yet  before  the 
tenth  year  of  Patrick,  his  second  son  (born  29th  May,  1736), 
he  found  himself  so  straitened  as  to  have  need  to  make  himself 
an  income  by  setting  up  in  Iris  house  a  private  classical  school. 
Assisted  to  this  by  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  best 
scholars  in  the  country,  he  taught  for  a  number  of  years  with 
great  approval  the  children  of  his  friends  and  his  own ;  aban- 
doning the  pursuit  only  when  one  of  its  inducements — the 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


107 


education  of  his  own  sons  and  daughters  (two  of  the  former 
and  five  of  the  latter) — had  ceased. 

Under  such  circumstances,  and  especially  when  we  repeat 
that  those  four  of  his  daughters  whom  we  knew  were  persons 
greatly  admired  for  the  masculine  goodness  and  extent  of  their 
education,  it  may  be  judged  how  likely,  how  possible  it  is  that 
Patrick,  with  his  boundless  aptitude — always,  in  after  life,  ap- 
plied most  rapidly  and  successfully  to  whatever  he  had  need 
to  understand — can  have  grown  up  to  manhood  almost  unin- 
structed,  ignorant,  and  idle.  Genius,  of  which  it  is  the  very 
essence  that  it  has  an  uncontrollable  affinity  for  the  knowledge 
proper  to  its  caste,  has  often  been  seen  to  surmount  obstacles 
seemingly  invincible  to  its  information ;  never  yet  wilfully,  in- 
corrigibly, and  in  spite  of  every  influence  around,  to  shut  out 
the  open  and  easy  daylight  of  intelligence,  and  darken  itself 
into  voluntary  duncedom.  The  thing,  we  repeat  is  a  flat,  a 
bald  and  a  flagrant  impossibility.  You  might  as  well  tell  us 
that  a  young  eagle,  instead  of  taking  to  the  sky  as  soon  as  its 
pinions  were  grown,  has,  though  neither  caged  nor  clipped,  re- 
mained contented  on  foot  and  preferred  to  run  about  the  barn- 
yard with  the  dunghill  fowls.  No!  your  "mute  Miltons" 
and  your  harmless  Cromwells  sound  very  prettily  to  the  fancy, 
but  in  plain  fact,  were  no  Miltons  unless  they  sang,  no  Crom- 
wells unless  they  conquered.  Genius  and  Heroism — the  most 
strenuous  of  human  things — were  never  dull,  slothful,  idle  ; 
never  slighted  opportunity,  but  always  make,  if  they  do  not 
find  it. 

Accordingly,  the  sisters  of  Mr.  Henry  always  asserted  that, 
whatever  their  brother  might  ai3pear  abroad,  he  was  a  close 
voluntary  student  at  home ;  exploring  not  only  his  father's  li- 


168         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

brary,  which  was  large  and  good,  but  whatever  other  books  he 
could  lay  his  hands  upon  ;  dwelling,  with  an  especial  delight, 
upon  certain  great  authors,  of  whom  he  seemed  to  make  his 
masters;  but  cultivating  assiduously  what  was  then  called 
"polite  learning,"  and  merited  the  name,  along  with  history 
at  large,  and  that  of  the  free  states  of  antiquity,  and  of 
England  in  particular.  His  great  favorites  were  Livy  and 
Virgil ;  not  (as  Mr.  Wirt  supposes  of  the  former)  in  a  transla- 
tion, but  the  original.  That  the  sisters  were  right  on  this 
point  is  sufficiently  proved  by  the  fact  that,  a  few  years  ago, 
his  Latin  Virgil  was  in  existence,  its  margins  all  filled  with  his 
manuscript  notes.  We  need  hardly  say  that  he  who  was  not 
content  with  Dryden  as  a  translator  was  clearly  not  a-going  to 
take  up  with  poor  old  Philemon  Holland,  then  the  current 
English  disfigurer  of  the  most  animated  and  picturesque  of 
historians.  Henry's  sisters  indeed,  and  the  only  one  of  his 
schoolfellows  that  we  have  ever  met,  were  persuaded  that  he 
read  Latin  almost  as  readily  as  English.  Mr.  Wirt  himself 
had  learned  that  the  great  Paduan  was  ever  in  his  boyish 
hands ;  now,  that  single  point  established,  he  might  without 
hesitation  have  proceeded  to  five  clear  and  important  infer- 
ences :  first,  that  no  boy  has  a  favorite  book  but  because  he  is 
fond  of  books  generally ;  secondly,  that  when  his  favorite  is, 
though  of  the  highest  merit,  a  very  unusual  one,  he  must  not 
only  have  read  much,  but  with  great  discrimination  :  thirdly, 
that  if  his  favorite  was  in  a  special  class  (not  a  mere  miscel- 
lanist)  he  was  well  read  in  that  class,  addicted  to  it :  fourthly, 
that  he  was  enamored  of  such  a  favorite  for  his  matchless 
merits,  both  of  matter  and  of  style  ;  his  sensibility  to  the  for- 
mer of  which  particulars  implied  information,  to  the  latter  a 


PATRICK    HENRY.  169 

well-formed  taste  :  fifthly,  that  no  mere  translation  of  Livy — 
especially  not  flat,  tame  old  Holland — nothing  short  of  the 
golden  original,  could  have  inspired  such  a  Livian  affection. 
But  this  is  not  all ;  when — coming  to  be  put  into  the  posses- 
sion of  the  scanty  remaining  body  of  Mr.  Henry's  papers  (ill- 
preserved  by  his  not  very  wise  j)rogeny)  and  invited  to  write 
his  life  more  authentically — we  ourselves  began  first  to  study 
his  speeches  and  his  mind  critically,  it  did  not  take  us  long  to 
perceive,  what  is  indeed  easily  seen,  that  Mr.  Henry's  early 
passion  for  Livy — born  of  course  of  Livy's  conformity  to  Ins  ge- 
nius— had  deeply  tinged  the  peculiar  style  of  his  eloquence, 
the  peculiar  character  of  his  politics,  was,  in  sooth,  the  imme- 
diate source  of  both ;  that  the  harangues  in  Livy  had  been 
his  models  of  discourse  ;  that  the  sentiments  of  public  mag- 
nanimity, wThich  Livy  every  where,  and  we  may  say  Livy  alone 
breathes,  were  transfused  into  Henry's  spirit,  and  gave  to  his 
ideas  of  a  state  that  singular  grandeur,  that  loftiness,  that  he- 
roism, which  fills  and  informs  them.  His  love  of  freedom  even — 
his  republicanism — was  such  as  Livy's ;  popular,  yet  patrician  : 
not  your  levelled  liberty,  too  low  to  last,  which,  to  keep  down 
the  naturally  great,  sets  up  the  base  on  high  ;  but  a  freedom 
consistent  with  the  eminence  and  the  subordination  of  natural 
orders  mutually  dependent  ;  equal  under  the  law,  but  distinct 
in  their  power  to  serve  the  state,  as  bringing  to  its  aid,  this 
rank  higher  counsels  and  obligations,  that,  force  and  numbers ; 
in  short,  not  merely  a  tumultuary,  a  mob  liberty,  but  a  social 
and  a  regulated  concert  of  all  classes,  the  absolute  predomi- 
nance of  none ;  a  republican,  not  a  democratic  aim.  Less 
learned  than  Milton,  certainly,  but  of  a  highly  kindred  spirit, 
he  was  very  like  him  in  his  general  political  system  ;  but  was 


170         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

more  practical,  better  acquainted  with  men.  The  one  had 
more  of  the  poetical  element  in  him,  the  other  more  of  the 
political.  Both  were  deeply  religions ;  without  which  no  man 
can  he  a  safe  politician.  Each  towered  above  all  the  men  of 
his  day,  except  one,  a  warrior ;  and  nearly  such  relation  as 
Milton  held  to  Cromwell  did  Henry  hold  to  Washington. 
Alike  in  the  antique  cast  of  their  minds,  they  were  yet  alike 
in  being,  withal,  thoroughly  English  in  their  notion  of  actual 
freedom  :  for  Henry's  mind  was  just  as  little  touched  with  any 
of  the  Jeffersonian  fancies  of  Frenchified  liberty  as  Milton's 
own.  Both  were  of  the  historic,  not  the  so-called  philosophic 
school  of  politics :  for  history  was  evidently  the  only  treatise 
on  government  that  either  thought  worthy  of  any  attention. 
If  they  had  ever  stooped  to  the  systematic  writers,  from  the 
great  sources  (wise  histories)  out  of  which  those  writers  can  at 
most  draw,  it  can  only  have  been  to  despise  nearly  every  mo- 
ther's son  of  them.  Finally,  alike  in  so  many  things,  they 
were  not  unhke  in  their  fate  :  both  "fell  upon  evil  times,"  and 
lost  their  public  credit  in  the  land  of  which  they  had  match- 
lessly vindicated  the  public  cause  :  Milton  died  sightless,  and 
Henry  too  blind  for  the  light  of  the  Virginia  abstractions. 

Every  thing  confutes  the  vulgar  theory  of  his  greatness. 
Had  he  been  ignorant  at  his  first  rise,  the  growth  of  his  talent, 
as  well  as  of  his  knowledge,  would  have  been  traceable  in  his 
performances  ;  but  on  the  contrary,  he  burst  out,  from  the 
first,  mature  and  finished.  By  the  universal  consent,  his 
very  earliest  speeches  were  quite  equal  to  any  thing  he  ever 
after  pronounced.  Had  these  been  at  sixteen,  it  would  go  far 
to  prove  that  his  eloquence,  his  ability,  aud  even  his  informa- 
tion came  (as  such  tilings  never  came  in  any  other  instance) 
without  cultivation :  but  his  first  speech,  that  in  "  the  parson's 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


171 


cause/'  at  Hanover  Court  House,  in  1763,  when  he  was  twenty- 
nine  years  old ;  the  same  period  of  life  at  which  Demosthenes 
and  Cicero  shone  out  ;  a  period  after  which  there  may  be  large 
additions  to  artificial  knowledge,  but  can  seldom  be  any  to  the 
natural  splendor  of  the  facidties. 

We  have  known  many  who  knew  Mr.  Henry,  in  the  entire 
unreserve  of  that  domestic  life,  in  which  he  so  much  loved  to 
unbend  himself.  All  such  agreed  that  he  was  a  man  of  very 
great  and  very  various  information.  He  read  every  thing. 
At  home,  his  interval  between  an  early  dinner  and  supper- 
time  (after  which  he  gave  himself  up  to  conversation  with  his 
friends,  or  to  sport  with  his  children,  or  to  music  on  the  violin 
and  flute,  which  he  played)  was  always  consecrated  to  study : 
he  withdrew  from  company  to  his  office  and  books.  His  very 
manner  of  reading  was  such  as  few  attain,  and  marks  the  great 
and  skilful  dealer  with  other  men's  thoughts :  he  seldom  read 
a  book  regularly  on  ;  but  seemed  only  to  glance  his  eye  down 
the  pages,  and,  as  it  were,  to  gallop  athwart  the  volume ;  and 
yet,  when  he  had  thus  strid  through  it,  knew  better  than  any 
body  else  all  that  was  worth  knowing  in  it  contents.  A 
learned  physician  who  dwelt  near  him,  told  us,  in  speaking  of 
this  wide  range  of  his  knowledge,  that  he  had,  for  instance,  to 
his  surprise,  found  him  to  be  a  good  chemist,  at  a  time  when 
an  acquaintance  with  that  science  was  almost  confined  to 
medical  men.  Except  in  private,  however,  he  kept  the  secret 
of  his  own  attainments,  content  to  let  them  appear  only  in 
their  effects.  This  was,  originally,  out  of  his  singular  mo- 
desty ;  but  by  and  by  when  his  vanquished  rivals  of  college- 
breeding  sought  to  depreciate  him  as  low-born  and  uneducated, 
he  from  policy  conformed  to  imputations  which  heightened  the 
wonder  of  his  performances  and  therefore  added  to  his  success. 


172  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Let  us  add  one  more  fact,  substantive  and  significant. 
The  range  of  a  man's  mind,  the  very  particulars  of  his  studies 
may  usually,  when  he  is  not  a  mere  book-collector  or  other  af- 
fector  of  letters,  be  pretty  definitely  ascertained  from  the  con- 
tents of  his  library.  In  that  view,  finding  that  a  list  of  Mr. 
Henry's  was  embraced  in  the  records  of  the  Court  of  Probate 
of  his  county,  we  examined  and  copied  it.  For  that  day,  his 
library,  besides  its  merely  professional  contents,  is  quite  a  large 
one — some  five  hundred  volumes,  mostly  good  and  solid.  We 
found  it  to  contain  the  usual  series  of  Greek  school-books,  pro- 
bably all  he  had  ever  read ;  for  the  language  was  then  slightly 
learnt  in  Virginia :  a  good  many  of  the  Latin  authors,  and  va- 
rious French  ones.  The  last  language  we  know,  from  other 
sources,  that  he  understood.  Now,  he  was  the  man  in  the 
world  the  least  likely  to  have  got  or  to  keep  books  that  he  did 
not  comprehend. 

Such  was  the  enigma  of  Patrick  Henry's  mind ;  and  such 
is  its  clear  solution  :  a  solution  which,  at  least,  must  be  con- 
fessed to  substitute  the  rational  for  the  irrational,  the  possible 
for  the  impossible,  the  positive  of  domestic  evidence  for  the 
negative  of  popular  tradition. 

Apart,  however,  from  such  testimony,  there  were  other 
proofs  that  should  have  suggested  themselves  to  the  anatomist 
of  his  character,  the  physiologist  of  his  genius.  When  we 
ourselves  first  began  minutely  to  consider  his  speeches,  their 
effects,  all  that  is  told  of  the  manner  in  which  those  effects 
were  brought  about,  the  reach  and  the  diversity  of  his  powers, 
their  admirable  adaptation  to  all  occasions  and  to  all  audi- 
ences— for  he  swayed  all  men  alike  by  his  eloquence,  the  low 
and  the  high,  the  ignorant  and  the  learned ;  the  unapproached 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


173 


dramatic  perfection  of  his  voice,  gesture,  manner,  and  whole 
delivery  ;  his  mastery,  not  only  in  speech,  but  off  the  tribune 
and  man  to  man,  of  all  that  can  affect  either  men's  reason  or 
their  imagination,  we  could  not,  for  our  lives,  help  coming  to 
the  conclusion  that  all  this  must  be  skill,  not  chance ;  and  that 
instead  of  being  the  mere  child  of  nature,  he  was  the  most 
consummate  artist  that  ever  lived.  Nature  bestows  marvel- 
lous things,  but  these  are  not  within  even  her  gift.  She  gives 
the  gold,  but  she  does  not  work  it  into  every  beautiful  form  ; 
she  gives  the  diamond,  but  she  does  not  cut  it  ;  she  bestows 
the  marble,  but  did  not  carve  the  Olympian  Jove  nor  the  Bel- 
videre  Apollo.  In  fine,  we  had,  in  much  acquaintance  with 
men  the  ornaments  of  the  public  life  of  our  times,  been  accus- 
tomed to  understand  all  the  minute  mechanism  of  civil  abili- 
ties ;  and  when  we  came  to  examine  closely  this  matchless 
piece  of  machinery,  we  could  not  avoid  believing,  in  spite  of  all 
assertions  to  the  contrary,  that  each  particular  part,  however 
nice  and  small,  must  have  been  made  by  hand  and  most  pain- 
fully put  together.  And  thus,  perceiving  eveiy  thing  else  in 
this  prodigious  speaker  to  have  been  so  masterly,  we  became 
convinced  that  his  style,  his  diction  must  have  been,  in  the 
main,  as  excellent  as  every  thing  else  about  him.  It  could  not 
have  been  otherwise.  He  whose  thought  was  so  high  and 
pure,  whose  fancy  was  so  rich,  and  the  mere  outward  auxilia- 
ries of  whose  discourse  (voice,  and  action)  had  been  so  labori- 
ously perfected,  can,  by  no  possibility,  have  failed  to  make  him- 
self equally  the  master  of  expression.  What  we  have  as  his, 
is  mere  reporter's  English ;  and  no  man  is  to  be  judged  by 
that  slop  of  sentences  into  which  he  is  put  and  melted  away 
by  their  process.  In  that  menstruum  of  words,  all  substances 
are  alike.    It  is  the  true  universal  solvent,  so  long  sought,  that 


174         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

acts  upon  every  thing  and  turns  it  into  liquid  babble.  Mr. 
Henry  knew  and  often  practised,  not  only  upon  the  multitude 
but  the  refined,  the  power  of  a  homely  dialect,  and  saw  how 
wise  or  brave  or  moving  things  may  be  made  to  come  with  a 
strangely  redoubled  effect,  in  the  extremest  plainness  of  rustic 
speech.  His  occasional  resort  to  this,  however,  of  course 
struck  much  upon  the  common  attention  and  got  him  the 
reputation,  among  other  foolish  reputations,  of  habitually  using 
such  locutions  ;  when,  in  reality,  he  was  master  of  all  modes 
of  discourse  alike,  and  only  employed  always  that  which  best 
suited  his  purpose. 

There  is  yet  one  more  false  notion,  in  regard  to  him,  which 
Mr.  Wirt  has  done  much  to  propagate :  the  notion,  we  mean, 
that  Henry  never  condescended  to  be  less  than  the  great  ora- 
tor ;  that,  instead  of  sometimes  going  about  his  business  on 
foot,  like  other  lawyers  and  legislators,  he  rode  for  ever  in  a 
sort  of  triumphal  car  of  eloquence,  dragging  along  a  captive 
crowd  at  his  conquering  wheels ;  and,  in  short,  that 

"He  could  not  ope 
His  mouth,  but  out  there  flew  a  trope." 

On  the  contrary,  no  man  was  ever  less  the  oration-maker. 
He  never  used  his  eloquence  but  as  he  used  every  thing  else — 
just  when  it  was  wanted.  In  the  mass  of  public  business, 
eloquence  is  out  of  place,  and  could  not  be  attended  to.  A 
man  who  was  always  eloquent  would  soon  lose  all  authority  in 
a  public  body.  Mr.  Henry  kept  up  always  the  very  greatest, 
and  merited  it,  by  taking  a  leading  part  in  all  important  mat- 
ters and  making  more  and  better  business  speeches  than  any 
body  else. 

A  long  preliminary  this ;  but  we  trust  not  uninteresting. 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


175 


It  was,  at  any  event,  necessary  that  we  should  first,  in  the 
Bentonian  phrase,  "  vindicate  the  truth  of  history,"  and  set  a 
great  character  in  its  proper  public  light,  before  passing  to  those 
humble  particulars  of  private  life  to  which  we  now  proceed. 

In  person,  he  was  tall  and  rather  spare,  but  of  limbs  round 
enough  for  either  vigor  or  grace.  He  had,  however,  a  slight 
stoop,  such  as  very  thoughtful  people  are  apt  to  contract.  In 
public,  his  aspect  was  remarkable  for  quiet  gravity.  It  seems 
to  have  been  a  rule  with  him  never  to  laugh  and  hardly  to 
smile,  before  the  vulgar.  In  their  presence  he  wore  an  air  al- 
ways fit  to  excite  at  once  their  sympathy  and  their  reverence ; 
modest,  even  to  humility  ;  and  yet  most  imposing.  In  all  this 
he  played  no  assumed,  though  he  could  not  have  played  a  more 
skilful  part  :  for  the  occasion  and  the  presence  appear  always 
to  have  so  duly  and  so  strongly  affected  him,  as  at  once  to 
transform  him  into  what  was,  at  each  instant,  fittest.  Thus 
his  art,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken,  might  well  be  con- 
summate ;  for  he  was  all  that,  for  mere  purposes  of  effect,  he 
should  have  seemed  to  be,  the  very  impersonation  of  the  cause 
and  the  feelings  proper  to  the  hour.  Great  wisdom,  indeed, 
an  unshrinking  courage,  and  yet  an  equal  prudence,  a  patriot- 
ism the  most  fervent,  a  profound  sensibility,  a  rare  love  of  jus- 
tice, yet  a  spirit  of  the  greatest  gentleness  and  humanity,  and 
in  a  word,  the  highest  virtues,  public  and  private,  crowned 
with  a  disinterestedness,  an  absence  of  all  ambition  most  sin- 
gular in  a  democracy  (which  above  all  things  breeds  the  con- 
trary) made  him — if  Cicero  be  right — the  greatest  of  orators, 
because  the  most  virtuous  of  men  that  ever  possessed  that  na- 
tural gift.  No  man  ever  knew  men  better,  singly  or  in  the 
mass  ;  none  ever  better  knew  how  to  sway  them  :  but  none 
ever  less  abused  that  power,  for  he  seems  ever  to  have  felt,  in 


176         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

a  religious  force,  the  solemnity  of  all  those  public  functions, 
which  so  few  now  regard.  It  was  probably  the  weight  of  this 
feeling,  along  with  his  singular  modesty,  that  made  him  shun 
official  honors  as  earnestly  as  others  seek  them.  It  is  evident 
that  no  power,  nor  dignity,  nor  even  fame  could  dazzle  him. 
It  was  only  at  the  public  command  that  he  accepted  trusts 
from  his  State ;  and  he  always  laid  them  down  as  soon  as  duty 
permitted.  All  offers  of  Federal  dignities,"""  up  to  the  highest, 
he  rejected.  He  had  served  his  State  only  in  perilous  times, 
when  (as  the  Devil  says  in  Milton)  to  be  highest  was  only  to 
be  exposed  foremost  to  the  bolts  of  the  dreaded  enemy ;  or  at 
some  conjuncture  of  civil  danger ;  but  when  peace  and  ease 
had  come  and  ambition  was  the  only  lure  to  office,  he  would 
not  have  it. 

If,  however,  he  was  thus  grave,  on  what  he  considered  the 
solemn  stage  of  public  life,  he  made  himself  ample  amends  in 
all  that  can  give  cheerfulness  to  the  calm  of  retirement  in  the 
country.  When  at  last  permitted  to  attend  to  his  private  for- 
tune, he  speedily  secured  an  ample  one.  It  was  enjoyed, 
whenever  business  allowed  him  to  be  at  home,  in  a  profuse 
and  general,  but  solid  and  old-fashioned  hospitality,  of  which 
the  stout  and  semi-baronial  supplies  were  abundantly  drawn 
from  his  own  large  and  well-managed  domain.  His  house  was 
usually  rilled  with  friends,  its  dependencies  with  their  retinue 

*  He  is  said  ( Wirt,  p.  404)  to  have  been  offered  by  Washington  the  Secre- 
taryship of  State  and  the  embassy  to  Spain.  He  certainly  was,  by  him,  also 
offered  the  War  Department,  and  by  Mr.  Adams  the  embassy  to  France.  These 
are  known.  "When  the  papers  of  Alexander  Hamilton  come  to  be  published 
down  to  those  of  1796,  it  will  be  seen  that  he  was  then  offered,  by  the  heads 
of  the  Federal  party,  through  John  Marshall  the  nomination  for  the  Presi- 
dency, as  "Washington's  successor,  but  declined  it. 


PATRICK  HENRY. 


177 


and  horses.  But  crowds,  besides,  came  and  went  ;  all  were  re- 
ceived and  entertained  with  cordiality.  The  country  all  about 
thronged  to  see  the  beloved  and  venerated  man,  as  soon  as  it 
went  abroad  that  he  was  come  back.  Some  came  merely  to 
see  him ;  the  rest  to  get  his  advice  on  law  and  all  other  mat- 
ters. To  the  poor,  it  was  gratuitous ;  to  even  the  rich  without 
a  fee,  except  where  he  thought  the  case  made  it  necessary  to 
go  to  law.  All  took  his  counsel  as  if  it  had  been  an  oracle's, 
for  nobody  thought  there  was  any  measure  to  "  Old  Patrick's" 
sense,  integrity,  or  good  nature.  This  concourse  began  rather 
betimes,  for  those  who  lived  near  often  came  to  breakfast,  where 
all  were  welcomed  and  made  full.  The  larder  seemed  never 
to  get  lean.  Breakfast  over,  creature-comforts,  such  as  might 
console  the  belated  for  its  loss,  were  presently  set  forth  on  side- 
tables  in  the  wide  entrance  hall.  Of  these; — the  solid,  not  the 
liquid  parts  of  a  rural  morning's  meal — breakfast  without  its 
slops,  and  such  as,  if  need  were,  might  well  stand  for  a  dinner, 
all  further  comers  helped  themselves  as  the  day  or  their  ap- 
petites advanced.  Meanwhile,  the  master  saw  and  welcomed 
all  with  the  kindliest  attention,  asked  of  their  household,  lis- 
tened to  their  affairs,  gave  them  his  view,  contented  all.  These 
audiences  seldom  ceased  before  noon  or  the  early  dinner.  To 
this  a  remaining  party  of  from  twenty,  to  thirty  often  sat  down. 
It  was  always,  according  to  the  wont  of  such  houses  in  that  well- 
fed  land,  a  meal  beneath  which  the  tables  groaned,  and  whose 
massive  old  Saxon  dishes  would  have  made  a  Frenchman  sweat. 
Every  thing  is  excellent  at  these  lavish  feasts ;  but  they  have 
no  luxuries  save  such  as  are  home-grown.  They  are,  however, 
for  all  that  is  substantial  and  plain,  the  very  summit  of  good 

cheer.    At  Governor  Henry's,  they  never  failed  to  be,  besides, 
12 


178  HOMES     OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

seasoned  with  his  conversation,  which  at  table  always  grew  gay 
and  even  gamesome.  The  dinner  ended,  he  betook  himself,  as 
already  told,  to  his  studies  until  supper,  after  which  he  again 
gave  himself  up  to  enjoyment.  In  this  manner  came,  with 
the  kindliest  and  most  cheerful  approach,  the  close  of  his  days; 
upon  which  there  rested  not  a  stain  nor  (such  had  been 
through  life  his  personal  benignity)  a  hostility.  Except  ty- 
rants and  other  public  enemies,  he  had  lived  at  peace  with  man 
and  God,  achieving  most  surprising  and  illustrious  things,  and 
content,  save  the  sight  of  his  liberated  country,  with  little  re- 
ward beyond  that  which  he  bore  in  his  own  approving  bosom. 


If  a  &  i  s  0  n ♦ 


MADISON. 

SCIENCE  has  had,  and  perhaps  will  ever  have,  its  fancies ; 
and  fancy  has  often  aspired  to  hecome  science ;  for  be- 
tween the  two — wide  apart  as  they  are  said  to  lie — stretches 
an  uncertain  domain,  which  they  seem  alternately  to  occupy 
by  incursion,  and  of  which,  when  thus  seized  upon,  each  ap- 
pears, oddly  enough,  often  to  take  possession  in  the  rival  name 
of  the  other.  Thus  Astronomy,  growing  visionary,  has  pre- 
tended to  trace  from  the  aspects  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  not 
merely  their  laws  and  motions,  but  the  vicissitudes  of  human 
fate  ;  and  chemistry  has  had  its  poetic  visions  of  an  elixir  of 


182  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

life  and  of  the  philosopher's  stone ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
mere  imagination  has  quite  as  often  attempted  to  erect,  out 
of  the  airiest  things,  a  jmilosophic  realm  of  her  own,  and  to 
deduce  into  positive  sciences  the  bumps  upon  the  human  skull, 
the  freaks  of  Nature  in  the  conformation  of  the  features,  and 
even  the  whimsical  diversities  of  people's  handwriting.  From 
all  these  have  been  set  up  grave  methods  of  arriving  at  a  know- 
ledge of  men's  faculties  and  characters. 

It  is  surprising  that,  among  these  fantastic  systems  of 
physiognomy,  that  easy  and  natural  one  should  never  have 
been  set  on  foot,  which  might  connect  the  structural  efforts  of 
individuals  with  the  cast  of  their  minds  and  feelings.  To  do 
this  would  be  especially  easy  in  new  countries,  where  nearly 
every  one  is  compelled  to  build  his  own  abode,  and  where,  for 
the  most  part,  there  is  so  little  of  architectural  solidity  that 
habitations  seldom  last  for  above  a  generation,  and  even  he  Who 
inherits  a  house  inherits  but  a  ruin.  Thus  the  simplicity  of 
Patrick  Henry's  habits  and  tastes  might  be  inferred  from  the 
primitiveness  of  his  dwelling.  You  might  have  guessed  his 
unambitiousness  from  the  absence  about  his  home  of  any  thing 
that  betrayed  a  longing  for  grandeur.  All  was  plain,  substan- 
tial, good ;  nothing  ostentatious  or  effeminate.  The  master's 
personal  desires  coveted  nothing  beyond  rural  abundance  and 
comforts — such  blessings  as  are  quite  enough  to  make  private 
life  happy  and  preserve  it  uncorrupt.  In  all  this  you  might 
discern  the  public  man  who  cherished,  as  a  politician,  no  vi- 
sions, no  novelties ;  sought,  of  course,  to  build  up  for  his  fel- 
low-citizens no  other  nor  better  happiness  than  such  as  crowned 
all  his  own  wishes ;  believed  little  in  pomp  and  greatness ;  loved 
our  old  hereditary  laws,  manners,  liberties,  victuals;  and 


MADISON. 


183 


dreaded  French  principles  and  dishes  as  alike  contaminating 
and  destructive. 

Man,  as  we  have  already  intimated,  is  a  constructive  ani- 
mal. He  alone  is  properly  such.  For  the  inferior  creatures 
that  build  do  so  upon  a  single,  instinctive,  invariable  method, 
always  using  the  same  material ;  he,  rationally  and  inventively, 
as  outward  circumstances  may  require,  or  as,  when  these  con- 
strain him  little,  his  individual  fancy,  desires,  or  judgment  may 
prompt.  In  the  nomadic  state  a  tent  of  skins,  a  lodge  of  bark, 
are  the  sole  structures  for  shelter  that  fit  his  wandering  life ; 
and  the  rudeness  of  these  invites  to  no  decoration,  while  con- 
venience itself  forbids  all  diversity  of  contrivance  for  him,  who, 
paying  no  ground-rent,  may  decamp  to-morrow ;  and,  bound 
by  no  leasehold,  may  carry  his  tenement  with  him,  like  that 
travelling  landlord,  Master  Snail,  or  abandon  it  like  that  lodger 
by  the  season,  Dame  Bird.  In  short,  he  comes  not  under  the 
terms  of  zoological  or  botanical  description,  as  having  a  habitat; 
under  the  line  he  lives,  as  did  father  Adam  and  mother  Eve 
(whose  housekeeping  in  Eden,  Milton  so  well  relates),  in  a 
bower  of  rose  and  myrtle ;  at  the  pole,  he  burrows  beneath 
the  snow  or  makes  his  masonry  of  ice ;  in  Idumea,  he  dwells, 
like  its  lions,  in  a  cavern ;  on  the  Maranon,  he  perches  his 
house  in  a  tree-top,  and  his  young  ones — plumeless  bipeds 
though  they  be — nestle  among  the  feathered  denizens  of  the 
mid-air ;  in  certain  mining  regions,  he  is  born  and  dies  hun- 
dreds of  fathoms  under  ground,  and  perhaps  never  sees  the 
light  of  day ;  in  Naples,  he  lives,  as  do  the  dogs  and  cats  of 
Constantinople,  in  the  streets.  Thus,  whatever  idea,  whatever 
purpose,  whatever  need,  whatever  fancy,  predominates  in  him 
when  he  builds,  it  takes  shape,  it  finds  expression,  it  embodies 


184  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

itself,  forthwith,  in  fitting  material,  fittingly  contrived,  and  is, 
according  to  his  habitative  wish,  his  taste  in  a  tabernacle,  pos- 
sibly a  pig-sty,  possibly  a  palace ;  for  his  range  of  invention 
stretches  over  every  thing  that  lies  between  the  two. 

The  founders  of  the  great  commonwealths  of  antiquity — 
the  Grecian  statesmen  and  warriors,  the  Konian  consuls — 
lived  at  home,  during  the  most  glorious  period  of  their  several 
states,  in  an  extreme  simplicity;  content  with  a  truly  noble 
penury,  while  they  built  up  the  grandeur  of  their  countiy. 
The  constructive  propensity  of  the  Athenian  instead  of  a  pri- 
vate direction  towards  his  personal  gratification,  took  the  gen- 
erous form  of  a  passion  for  public  momunents ;  that  of  the 
Eoman  turned  itself,  until  the  decline  of  the  Kepublic  began, 
upon  the  rearing  of  trophies  and  triumphal  arches,  rather  than 
of  lordly  mansions;  and  dictators  sometimes,  consuls  often, 
were  called  from  the  cot  and  the  plough  to  the  supreme  trusts 
of  war  and  peace.  But  this  was  all  in  the  spirit  of  ages  and 
institutions,  when  the  citizen  lived  in  the  state  and  sought  his 
private,  in  the  public  greatness  and  happiness.  Modern  times 
present  few  individual  instances  of  the  like.  In  those  ancient 
politics,  the  state  leaned  on  the  citizen ;  in  our  modern,  the 
citizen  leans  on  the  state.  Then,  public  life  was  much,  pri- 
vate life  was  little ;  now,  it  is  reversed,  the  citizen  wants  not 
to  help  the  state,  but  wants  the  state  to  help  him.  Now, 
over-civilization  has  so  multiplied  the  conveniences  of  life,  and 
habit  has  rendered  its  indulgences  so  necessary,  that  he  who, 
being  great,  can  five  without  and  above  them,  has  need  to  be 
of  a  rare  elevation,  an  inherent  grandeur  of  soul. 

The  statesman  whose  mansion  and  whose  habits  in  retreat 
we  are  about  to  describe,  without  being  altogether  of  that  he- 


MADISON. 


185 


roical  cast  of  mind  which  graced  the  character  of  a  Washing- 
ton, a  Henry,  or  a  Clay,  had  yet  much  of  that  elevated  sim- 
plicity which  marks  the  highest  strain  of  greatness.  Mr. 
Madison,  when  he  laid  down  what  he  had  so  worthily  and 
wisely  worn  as  to  have  disarmed  all  previous  reproach  and  hos- 
tility— the  supreme  dignity  of  the  Union — returned  quietly  to 
his  hereditary  abode,  resumed  the  unaffected  citizen,  and 
seemed  to  be  as  glad  to  forget  his  past  greatness  as  to  escape 
from  the  anxieties  and  envy  that  attend  power  as  shadows  do 
the  sun.  He  went  back,  after  his  stormy  but  successful  presi- 
dency of  eight  years,  to  his  father's  seat,  Montpelier,  where, 
but  for  the  accident — the  same  which  befell  a  hero  of  Irish 
song,  Denis  Brulgruddery — of  his  mother's  being  on  a  visit  to 
her  mamma  at  the  time,  he  would  certainly  have  been  born. 
There,  like  a  sensible  man,  and  a  good  fellow  to  boot  (as  he 
was),  he  sat  down  on  a  fine  plantation,  in  a  good  old-fashioned 
house,  with  a  fine  old  cellar  of  old-fashioned  wines  under  it, 
and  the  best  old  Virginian  servants  in  it,  to  spend  the  rest 
of  his  days  upon  that  wise  plan  which  King  Pyrrhus  proposed 
to  himself,  but,  postponing  too  long,  did  not  five  to  execute. 
He  (that  is,  Mr.  Madison,  not  Pyrrhus)  sat  down  like  an  actor 
who  has  played  out  his  part  with  applause,  calmly  to  look  at 
the  rest  of  the  piece,  no  further  concerned  in  its  business,  but 
not  affecting  (as  others  have  done)  the  uninterested  spectator 
of  the  performance.  He  did  not  assume  the  philosophic  sage ; 
he  did  not  bury  himself  in  a  monastic  gloom  like  Charles  V. : 
nor,  like  the  same  discrowned  prince  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  betake 
himself  to  mending  watches ;  nor,  like  Dioclesian,  to  cultivating 
cabbages ;  but  in  the  bosom  of  that  pleasant  retreat,  which  had 
witnessed  his  youthful  preparation  for  public  toils,  sought  the  re- 


186         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN 

pose  from  them  which  he  had  fairly  earned ;  and  sweetening  it 
with  all  that  could  give  it  zest,  in  the  companionship  of  the 
amiable  wife  who  had  shared  with  him  and  adorned  public 
honors,  and  in  the  society  of  the  many  personal  friends  that 
his  virtues  and  talents  drew  about  him,  passed  the  evening  of 
his  days  in  gentlemanly  and  genial  ease  and  hospitality. 

Montpelier,  the  residence  to  which,  as  an  only  child,  he 
had  succeeded  at  his  father's  death,  is  a  plain  but  ample,  and 
rather  handsome  habitation  of  brick,  around  which  spreads 
out,  in  such  undulations  of  gently-waving  swells  and  irregular 
plains  as  pleasantly  diversify  the  view,  a  fertile  domain  of  some 
two  thousand  six  hundred  acres  ;  a  part  of  it  well  cultivated, 
but  a  still  larger  part  yet  in  all  the  wildness  of  nature.  The 
region  is  one  where  she  has  shed,  in  great  beauty,  the  softest 
picturesque  of  hill  and  dale,  forest  and  glade.  At  hand,  in 
the  rear,  rises,  as  if  to  adorn  the  prospect  with  bolder  contrasts, 
the  gracefully  wavering  chain  of  the  southwest  mountain,  to 
fence  on  one  side  the  vale  of  Orange  and  Albemarle,  on  whose 
southeastern  edge  of  nodding  woods  and*  green  fields  Mont- 
pelier  lies  embosomed  and  embowered;  while  on  the  other 
side,  in  the  airy  distance  beyond  that  vale,  tower  in  fantastic 
line  the  blue  peaks  of  the  long  Apalachian  ridge,  breaking  the 
horizon,  as  if  to  form  another  and  a  more  fanciful  one.  The 
wide  scene,  caught  in  glimpses  through  the  mantling  trees,  or 
opening  out  in  the  larger  vista  of  farm  beyond  farm,  or  shining 
in  loftier  prospect  above  the  tree-tops  and  the  low  hills,  offers 
to  the  ranging  eye,  many  a  charming  view, — sweet  spots  of 
pastoral  beauty;  jutting  capes  and  copses,  or  nodding  old 
groves  of  woodlands  ;  the  rich  and  regular  cultivation  of 
spreading  plantations,  amidst  which  glisten  now  a  stately 


MADISON. 


187 


mansion,  and  now  a  snug  farm-house,  each  decorated  with  its 
peculiar  growth  of  trees  for  shade  or  fruit ;  and  far  away, 
mountain  regions,  whose  heights,  and  whose  rude  and  massy 
but  undefined  forms,  suggest  to  the  fancy  the  savage  grandeur 
of  that  remoter  landscape  which  the  eye  knows  to  he  there, 
though  it  mocks  the  sight  with  what  is  so  different.  All  these 
are,  at  frequent  points,  the  aspects  of  that  fine  country  from 
Orange  court-house  up  to  Charlottesville  ;  they  are  nowhere 
seen  in  greater  perfection  or  abundance  than  just  around  Mont- 
pelier.  At  almost  every  turn,  one  discovers  a  new  pleasure  of 
the  landscape ;  at  nearly  every  step,  there  is  a  surprise.  It 
looks  like  a  realm  of  pictures ;  you  would  almost  think  that 
not  nature  had  placed  it  there,  but  that  the  happiest  skill  of 
the  painter  had  collected  and  disposed  the  scenes. 

The  house,  we  have  said,  is  plain  and  large.  Its  size  and 
finish  bespeak  gentlemanly  but  unpretending  ease  and  fortune. 
It  has  no  air  of  assumed  lordliness  or  upstart  pretension.  No 
foreign  models  seem  to  have  been  consulted  in  its  design,  no 
proportions  of  art  studied ;  yet  it  wants  not  symmetry  as  well- 
planned  convenience,  comfort,  and  fitness  lend,  as  if  without 
intention.  A  tall,  and  rather  handsome  columned  portico,  in 
front,  is  the  only  thing  decorative  about  it ;  but  is  not  enough 
so  to  be  at  all  out  of  keeping.  It  is  of  the  whole  height  of 
the  central  building,  of  two  stories,  and  covers  about  half  its 
length  of  some  forty-five  feet.  Broad  steps,  five  in  number, 
support  and  give  access  along  its  entire  front.  Its  depth  is 
about  one-third  its  width.  The  main  building  itself  is  a  paral- 
lelogram, near  half  as  deep  as  it  is  long.  At  each  flank,  a  little 
receding,  is  a  single-storied  wing  of  about  twenty  feet,  its  flat 
roof  surmounted  by  a  balustrade.     The  house  stands  on  a 


188  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

gently-rising  eminence.  A  wide  lawn,  broken  only  here  and 
there  by  clumps  of  trees,  stretches  before  it.  On  either  side 
are  irregular  masses  of  these,  of  different  shajDes  and  foliage, 
evergreen  and  deciduous,  which  thicken  at  places  into  a  grove, 
and  half  screen  those  dependencies  of  a  handsome  establish- 
ment— stables,  dairies  and  the  like — which,  left  openly  in 
sight,  look  very  ill,  and  can  be  made  to  look  no  otherwise,  even 
by  the  trying  to  make  them  look  genteel :  for  they  are  dis- 
agreeable objects,  that  call  up  (attire  them  as  you  will)  ideas 
not  dainty.  As,  therefore,  the  eye  should  not  miss  them  alto- 
gether— for  their  absence  would  imply  great  discomfort  and 
inconvenience — the  best  way  is  to  half-veil  them,  as  is  done 
at  Montpelier. 

In  the  rear  of  the  house  lies  a  large  and  well-tended  garden. 
This  was,  of  course,  mainly  the  mistress's  care ;  while  the  mas- 
ter's was,  as  far  as  his  bodily  feebleness  permitted,  directed  to- 
wards his  agricultural  operations.  In  the  Virginia  economy  of 
the  household,  where  so  much  must  be  ordered  with  a  view  to 
entertaining  guests  all  the  while,  the  garden  plays  an  important 
part.  Without  ample  supplies  from  it,  there  would  be  no  pos- 
sibility of  maintaining  that  exuberant  good  cheer  with  which 
the  tables  continually  groan,  in  all  those  wealthier  habitations 
where  the  old  custom  of  a  boundless  hospitality  is  still  reverently 
observed.  In  such — and  there  are  yet  many,  although  the  Jef- 
fersonian  "  Law  of  Descents/'  and  the  diffusion  of  the  trading 
spirit  are  thinning  them  out  every  day,  as  rum  and  smallpox  are 
dispeopling  our  Indian  tribes — there  is  little  pause  of  repletion. 
Every  guest  must  be  feasted :  if  a  stranger,  because  strangers 
ought  to  be  made  to  pass  their  time  as  agreeably  as  possible ; 
if  a  friend,  because  nothing  can  be  too  good  for  one's  friends. 


MADISON. 


189 


Where  such  social  maxims  and  such  a  domestic  policy  prevail, 
there  will  seldom,  according  to  Adam  Smith's  principle  of 
"  Demand  and  Supply/'  be  any  very  serious  lack  of  guests. 
Indeed,  the  condition  is  one  hard  to  avoid,  and  so  pleasant, 
withal,  that  we  have  known  persons  of  wit  and  breeding  to 
adopt  it  as  their  sole  profession,  and  benevolently  pass  their 
lives  in  guarding  their  friends,  one  after  another,  from  the  dis- 
tresses of  a  guestless  mansion.  But,  to  return  to  the  garden 
of  Montpelier ;  there  were  few  houses  in  Virginia  that  gave  a 
larger  welcome,  or  made  it  more  agreeable,  than  that  over  which 
Queen  Dolly — the  most  gracious  and  beloved  of  all  our  female 
sovereigns — reigned ;  and,  wielding  as  skilfully  the  domestic, 
as  she  had  done  worthily  and  popularly  the  public,  sceptre, 
every  thing  that  came  beneath  her  immediate  personal  sway — 
the  care  and  the  entertainment  of  visitors,  the  government  of 
the  menials,  the  whole  policy  of  the  interior — was  admirably 
managed,  with  an  equal  grace  and  efficiency.  Wherefore,  as 
we  have  said,  the  important  department  of  the  garden  was 
excellently  well  administered,  both  for  profit  and  pleasure,  and 
made  to  pour  forth  in  profusion,  from  its  wide  and  variously- 
tended  extent,  the  esculents  and  the  blooms,  herb,  fruit,  flower, 
or  root,  of  every  season.  JSTor  was  the  merely  beautiful  neg- 
lected for  the  useful  only ;  her  truly  feminine  tastes  delighted 
in  all  the  many  tinted  children  of  the  parterre,  native  and  ex- 
otic ;  and  flowers  sprang  up  beneath  her  hand,  as  well  as  their 
more  substantial  sisters,  the  vegetables.  In  a  word,  her  gar- 
den was  rich  in  all  that  makes  one  delightful ;  and  so  of  all 
the  other  less  sightly  but  needful  departments  of  her  large  and 
well-ordered  establishment. 

We  should,  however,  slight  one  of  its  most  pleasing  fea- 


190  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

tures,  were  we  to  omit  mentioning  the  peculiar  purpose  to 
which  was  consecrated  one  of  those  low  wings  of  the  building 
which  we  have  briefly  described.  There  dwelt,  under  the  most 
sacred  guard  of  filial  affection,  yet  served  in  her  own  little 
separate  household  by  servants  set  apart  to  her  use,  the  very 
aged  and  infirm  mother  of  Mr.  Madison ;  a  most  venerable 
lady,  who,  after  the  death  of  her  husband,  thus  lived  under 
the  tender  guardianship  of  her  son  and  of  her  daughter-in-law, 
down  to  near  her  hundredth  year,  enjoying  whatever  of  the 
sweets  of  life  the  most  affectionate  and  ingenious  solicitude  can 
bestow  upon  extreme  decrepitude.  Here  she  possessed  without 
the  trouble  of  providing  them,  all  the  comforts  and  freedom 
of  an  independent  establishment ;  and  tended  by  her  own 
gray-haired  domestics,  and  surrounded  at  her  will  by  such 
younger  relatives  as  it  gratified  her  to  have  about  her,  she 
passed  her  quiet  but  never  lonely  days,  a  reverent  and  a  gentle 
image  of  the  good  and  indeed  elevated  simplicity  of  elder  times, 
manners,  and  tastes.  All  the  appointments  of  her  dwelling 
bespoke  the  olden  clay ;  dark  and  cumbrous  old  carved  furni- 
ture, carpets  of  which  the  modern  loom  has  forgotten  the  pat- 
terns ;  implements  that  looked  as  if  Tubal  Cain  had  designed 
them ;  upholstery  quaintly,  if  not  queerly  venerable.  In  short, 
all  the  objects  about  her  were  in  keeping  with  her  person  and 
attire.  You  would  have  said  that  they  and  she  had  sat  to  Sir 
Godfrey  Kneller  for  a  family  picture ;  or  that  you  yourself  had 
been  suddenly  transported  back  to  Addison's  time,  and  were 
peeping  by  privilege  into  the  most  secluded  part  of  Sir  Koger 
de  Coverley's  mansion.  Indeed,  to  confirm  the  illusion,  you 
would  probably  find  her  reading  the  Spectator  in  the  large 
imprint  and  rich  binding  of  its  own  period,  or  thumbing — as 


MADISON. 


191 


our  degenerate  misses  do  a  novel  of  the  Dickens  or  Sue  school — 
the  leaves  of  Pope,  Swift,  Steele,  or  some  other  of  those  whom 
criticism  alone  (for  the  common  people  and  the  crowd,  of  what 
is  now  styled  literature,  know  them  not)  still  recalls  as  "  the 
wits  of  Queen  Anne's  day."  These  were  the  learning  of  our 
great-grandmothers ;  need  we  wonder  if  they  were  nobler  dames 
than  the  frivolous  things  of  the  fancy  boarding-school,  half- 
taught  in  every  thing  they  should  not  study,  made  at  much 
pains  and  expense  to  know  really  nothing,  and  just  proficients 
enough  of  foreign  tongues  to  be  ignorant  of  their  own  ?  The 
authors  we  have  mentioned,  their  good  contemporaries,  and 
their  yet  greater  predecessors,  who  gave  to  our  language  a  lit- 
erature, and  are  still  all  that  holds  it  from  sinking  into  fustian 
and  slipslop,  a  tag-rag  learning  and  a  tatterdemalion  English, 
were  those  that  lay  around  this  ancient  lady,  and  beguiled  her 
old  age  as  they  had  formed  and  delighted  the  youth  of  her 
mind  and  heart.  If  you  made  her  refer  to  them,  as  the  favor- 
ite employment  of  her  infirmity-compelled  leisure,  it  was 
pleasant  to  hear  her  (as  in  that  other  instance  which  we  have 
given  of  Patrick  Henry's  sisters)  talk  of  them  as  if  they  had 
been  dear  and  familiar  personal  friends.  Perhaps,  however, 
authors  were  then  .better  loved  and  more  respected  by  their 
readers  than  they  are  nowadays ;  and  possibly  this  was  be- 
cause they  deserved  to  be  so  ;  or  indeed  there  may  be  a  double 
decline,  and  readers  as  much  worse  than  the  writers.  Not 
that  either  of  these  is  the  fact,  or  even  a  conjecture  which  we 
ourselves  entertain.  We  merely  mention  it  en  passant,  as  a 
bare  possibility.  The  opinion  would  be  unpopular,  and  should 
not  be  admitted  in  a  democracy ;  of  which  it  is  the  very  gen- 
ius to  have  no  opinions  but  such  as  are  popular ;  and  there- 


192  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

fore  to  think  no  thoughts  that  might  betray  one  into  an  opin- 
ion not  that  of  the  majority. 

Such  books  then,  and,  when  her  old  eyes  grew  weary,  the 
almost  equally  antiquated  occupation  of  knitting,  habitually 
filled  up  the  hours  of  this  old-time  lady ;  the  hours,  we  mean, 
which  pain  or  feebleness  remitted  her  for  occupation.  As  to 
those  sadder  moments  of  suffering,  or  of  that  sinking  of  the 
bodily  powers  which  presses  at  times  upon  far-advanced  age, 
she  bore  them  with  the  cheerfullest  patience,  and  even  treated 
them  as  almost  compensated  by  the  constant  delight  of  the 
affections  which  the  pious  care  of  her  children  gave  her  all  the 
while.  Nothing  could  exceed  their  watchfulness  to  serve  her, 
soothe  her,  minister  to  her  such  enjoyments  as  may  be  made 
by  lovingness  to  linger  around  even  the  last  decline  of  a  kindly 
and  well-spent  life.  In  all  such  offices,  her  son  bore  as  much 
part  as  his  own  frail  health  and  the  lesser  aptitude  of  men  for 
tending  the  sick  permitted ;  but  no  daughter  ever  exceeded  in 
the  tender  and  assiduous  arts  of  alleviation,  the  attentions 
which  Mrs.  Madison  gave  to  her  husband's  infirm  parent. 
Keversing  the  order  of  nature,  she  became  to  her  (as  the  ven- 
erable sufferer  herself  was  accustomed  fondly  to  say)  the  mo- 
ther of  her  second  childhood.  Mistress  as  she  was  of  all  that 
makes  greatness  pleasing  and  sheds  a  shining  grace  upon 
power,  Mrs.  Madison  never  appeared  in  any  light  so  worthy  or 
so  winning,  as  in  this  secret  one  of  filial  affection  towards  her 
adopted  mother. 

It  was  a  part,  however,  of  her  system  of  happiness  for  the 
ancient  lady,  at  once  to  shut  out  from  her  (what  she  could  ill 
sustain)  the  bustle  of  that  large  establishment,  and  the  gayeties 
of  the  more  miscellaneous  guests  that  often  thronged  it,  and 


MADISON. 


193 


yet  to  bring  to  her,  in  special  favor  towards  them,  such  visi- 
tors as  could  give  her  pleasure  and  break  the  monotony  of  her 
general  seclusion.  These  were  sometimes  old  and  valued 
friends  ;  sometimes  their  hopeful  offspring ;  and  occasionally 
personages  of  such  note  as  made  her  curious  to  see  them.  All 
such  she  received,,  according  to  what  they  were,  with  that  an- 
tique cordiality  or  amenity  which  belonged  to  the  fine  old  days 
of  good-breeding,  of  which  she  was  a  genuine  specimen.  To 
the  old,  her  person,  dress,  manners,  conversation,  recalled,  in 
their  most  pleasing  forms,  the  usages,  the  spirit,  the  social 
tone  of  an  order  of  things  that  had  vanished ;  an  elevated 
simplicity  that  had  now  given  way  to  more  affected  courtesies, 
more  artificial  elegancies.  To  the  young,  she  and  her  minia- 
ture household  were  a  still  more  singular  spectacle.  They 
had  looked  upon  their  host  and  hostess  as  fine  old  samples  of 
the  past,  and  the  outer,  the  exoteric  Montpelier,  with  its  cum- 
brous furniture  and  rich  but  little  modish  appointments,  as  a 
sort  of  museum  of  domestic  antiquities;  but  here,  hidden 
within  its  secret  recesses,  were  a  personage,  ways,  objects, 
fashions,  that  carried  them  back  to  the  yet  more  superannu- 
ated elegance  of  days  when  what  now  struck  them  as  obsolete 
must  have  been  regarded  as  the  frivolous  innovations  of  an 
impertinent  young  generation. 

We  have  already  described  the  house,  and  glanced  at  its 
appointments,  but  may  add  that  the  former  seemed  designed 
for  an  opulent  and  an  easy  hospitality,  and  that  the  latter, 
while  rich,  was  plainly  and  solidly  so.  No  expedients,  no 
tricks  of  show  met  the  eye  ;  but  all  was  well  set  forth  with  a 
sort  of  nobleness,  yet  nothing  of  pomp.  The  apartments  were 
of  ample  size ;  the  furniture  neither  scanty  nor  (as  now  seems 


194  HOMES     OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

the  mode)  huddled  together,  as  if  the  master  were  a  salesman. 
Nothing  seemed  wanting,  nothing  too  much.  A  finished  ur- 
banity and  yet  a  thorough  cordiality  reigned  in  every  thing  :  all 
the  ways,  all  the  persons,  all  the  objects  of  the  place  were 
agreeable  and  even  interesting.  You  soon  grew  at  your  ease, 
if  at  arriving  you  had  been  otherwise:  for  here  was,  in 
its  perfection,  that  happiest  part  and  surest  test  of  good- 
breeding — the  power  of  at  once  putting  every  one  at  ease. 
The  attentions  were  not  over-assiduous,  not  slack;  but  kept, 
to  great  degree,  out  of  sight,  by  making  a  body  of  thoroughly- 
trained  and  most  mannerly  servants  their  ministrants,  so  that 
the  hosts  performed  in  person  little  but  the  higher  rites  of 
hospitality,  and  thus  seemed  to  have  no  trouble  and  much 
pleasure  in  entertaining  you.  Accordingly,  there  has  seldom, 
even  in  the  hilarious  land  of  old  Virginia,  been  a  house  kept — 
especially  by  elderly  people — at  which  it  was  pleasanter  to  be 
a  sojourner.  They  always  made  you  glad  to  have  come,  and 
sorry  that  you  must  go. 

Such  was  the  main  interior  life  of  Montpelier.  Its  busi- 
ness seemed  but  the  giving  pleasure  to  its  guests,  of  whom  a 
perpetual  succession  came  and  went.  Little  was  seen  of  the 
working  machinery  of  the  fine,  and  on  the  whole,  well-man- 
aged estate,  that  poured  forth  its  copious  supplies  to  render 
possible  all  this  lavish  entertainment,  this  perennial  flow  of 
feasting.  For  here,  be  it  observed,  as  elsewhere  in  the  rural 
hospitalities  of  Virginia,  it  was  not  single  visitors  that  were  to 
be  accommodated,  but  families  and  parties.  Nor  did  these 
arrive  unattended,  for  each  brought  with  it  a  retinue  of  ser- 
vants, a  stud  of  horses,  and  all  were  to  be  provided  for. 
Meantime,  the  master  was  seen  little  to  direct  in  person  the 


MADISON. 


195 


husbandry  of  his  domain ;  and  indeed,  he  was  known  to  be 
too  feeble  to  do  so.  Nevertheless,  the  tillage  of  Montpelier 
was  productive  and  its  soil  held  in  a  state  of  progressive  im- 
provement. Indeed,  capable  of  every  thing  he  had  engaged  in, 
except  arms  (in  which  the  Jeffersonian  dynasty,  except  Mon- 
roe, must  be  confessed  not  to  have  excelled) — wise,  attentive, 
and  systematic,  he  had  established  his  farming  oj)erations  upon 
a  method  so  good  and  regular,  that  they  went  on  well,  with 
only  his  occasional  inspection,  and  the  nightly  reports  of  his 
head  men  of  the  blacks.  The  mildest  and  humanest  of  mas- 
ters, he  had  brought  about  among  his  slaves,  by  a  gentle  exact- 
ness, and  the  care  to  keep  them  happy  while  well-governed, 
great  devotion  to  him  and  their  duties,  and  a  far  more  than 
usual  intelligence.  Every  night  he  received  an  account  of  the 
day's  results,  and  consulted  freely  with  his  managers,  on  the 
morrow's  business.  All  was  examined  and  discussed  as  with 
persons  who  had  and  who  deserved  his  confidence.  Thus  en- 
couraged to  think,  the  inert  and  unreflecting  African  learnt 
forecast,  skill,  self-respect,  and  zeal  to  do  his  duty  towards  the 
master  and  mistress  who  were  so  good  to  him.  We  do  not 
say  that  the  like  could  be  done  to  the  same  extent  every  where. 
Montpelier  was  cultivated  merely  to  support  itself,  and  not  for 
profit ;  which  is  necessarily  the  ruling  end  on  the  plantations 
generally,  and  perhaps  compels  more  enforced  methods ;  which, 
indeed,  can  scarcely  be  expected  to  cease,  as  long  as  fanatical 
interference  from  without,  between  the  master  and  the  slave, 
shall  only  serve  to  breed  discontent  on  the  one  part  and  dis- 
trust on  the  other,  and  driving  the  threatened  master  to  at- 
tend to  the  present  security  of  his^roperty,  instead  of  occupy- 
ing himself  with  its  future  amelioration.    Men  of  any  sense 


196  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

abroad  should  surely  have  perceived,  by  this  time,  that  the 
method  of  driving  the  Southern  States  into  Emancipation  does 
not  answer ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  is,  so  far  as  the  temper  of 
that  region  is  concerned,  only  postponing  it,  and  meanwhile 
aggravating  the  condition  of  both  classes. 

DO  O 

Thus  gentle,  genial,  kindly,  liberal,  good  and  happy,  passed 
the  life  of  Montpelier.  Public  veneration  shed  all  its  honors ; 
private  friendship  and  communion  all  their  delights  upon  it. 
Even  those  dignities  which,  in  this  country  of  party  spirit,  be- 
get for  the  successful  more  of  reproach  than  fame,  had  left  the 
name  of  Madison  without  a  serious  stain.  His  Presidency  past, 
the  wise  and  blameless  spirit  of  his  official  administration  came 
speedily  to  be  acknowledged  on  all  sides,  and  envy  and  detrac- 
tion, left  without  an  aim,  turned  to  eulogy.  An  ample  for- 
tune, the  greatest  domestic  happiness,  and  a  life  prolonged,  in 
spite  of  the  original  feebleness  of  his  body,  to  the  unusual  age 
of  eighty-five,  gave  him  in  their  full  measure,  those  singular 
blessings  which  the  goodness  of  God  deservedly  dealt  to  him 
and  the  admirable  partner  of  his  existence.  A  philosophic, 
and  yet  not  a  visionary  ruler,  he  should  stand  among  ours  as 
next  to  Washington,  though  separated  from  him  by  a  great 
interval.  The  JefTersons  and  the  Jacksons  come  far  after  him, 
for 

"He  was  more 
Than  a  mere  Alexander ;  and,  unstained 
With  household  blood  and  wine,  serenely  wore 
His  sovereign  virtues :  still  we  Trajan's  name  adore." 


JAY. 

ALTHOUGH  the  City  of  New- York  claims  the  honor  of 
heing  the  birth-place  of  John  Jay,  it  cannot  properly  be 
regarded  as  the  home  of  his  early  years.  Not  far  from  the 
time  of  his  birth,  on  the  12th  of  December,  1745,  his  father, 
Peter  Jay,  who,  by  honorable  assiduity  in  the  mercantile  voca- 
tion, had  accumulated  a  handsome  fortune,  purchased  an  es- 
tate in  Rye,  about  twenty-five  miles  from  the  city,  with  the 
intention  of  making  it  his  future  residence.  This  town,  situ- 
ated on  the  southeastern  corner  of  Westchester  County,  ranks 


200  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

among  the  most  delightful  summer  resorts  that  adorn  the 
northern  shores  of  Long  Island  Sound.  The  village  proper 
stands  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  Sound,  on  the  turn- 
pike road  between  New- York  and  Boston.  From  the  hills 
extending  along  its  northern  limits,  the  Mockquams  (Blind 
Brook)  a  perennial  stream,  flows  southwardly  through  it, 
adding  much  to  the  beauty  of  its  scenery.  On  the  out- 
skirts are  many  elegant  villas,  the  favorite  haunts  of  those 
who  rejoice  to  exchange  the  cares  of  business  and  the  dust 
and  heat  of  the  neighboring  metropolis  for  its  grateful 
seclusion  and  the  refreshing  breezes  that  visit  it  from  the 
ocean. 

For  the  desertion  of  the  Jay  estate  at  Eye,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  personal  knowledge,  we  shall,  in  the  main,  rely  upon 
the  account  furnished  by  Bolton,  in  his  excellent  History 
of  Westchester  County,  adhering  principally  to  his  own  lan- 
guage. 

The  situation  of  the  estate  is  very  fine,  embracing  some  of 
the  most  graceful  undulations  of  a  hilly  district,  highly  diver- 
sified with  rocks,  woods,  and  river  scenery.  Contiguous  to  the 
southern  portion  of  it  and  bordering  the  Sound  is  Marie's 
Neck  and  the  neighboring  islands  of  Pine  and  Hen-hawk. 
The  curious  phenomenon  of  the  Mirage  is  frequently  wit- 
nessed from  these  shores,  when  the  land  on  the  opposite 
coast  of  Long  Island  appears  to  rise  above  the  waters  of 
the  Sound,  the  intermediate  spaces  seeming  to  be  sunk  be- 
neath the  waves. 

The  family  residence  is  situated  near  the  post-road  leading 
to  Eye,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  river.  The  building  is  a 
handsome  structure  of  wood,  having  a  lofty  portico  on  the 


JAY. 


201 


north.  The  south  point  commands  a  beautiful  and  charming 
view  of  the  Sound  and  Long  Island.  Some  highly  interest- 
ing family  portraits  adorn  the  walls  of  the  hall  and  dining- 
room,  among  which  are  the  following  :  Augustus  Jay,  who 
emigrated  to  this  country  in  1686,  a  copy  from  the  original  by 
Waldo ;  Anna  Maria  Bayard,  wife  of  Augustus  J  ay,  by  Waldo ; 
Peter  Augustus  J  ay,  as  a  boy,  artist  unknown  ;  an  old  paint- 
ing upon  oak  panel,  supposed  to  represent  Catherine,  wife  of 
the  Hon.  Stephen  Van  Cortlandt,  of  Cortlandt,  South  Hol- 
land. This  lady  appears  habited  in  a  plain  black  dress,  wear- 
ing a  high  neck-ruffle,  and,  in  her  hand,  holds  a  clasped  Bible. 
In  one  corner  of  the  picture  is  inscribed  "aetat.  64,  1630/' 
In  the  library  is  the  valuable  cabinet  of  shells,  amounting  to 
several  thousands,  of  which  the  collector,  John  C.  Jay,  M.  D., 
has  published  a  descriptive  catalogue.  Noticeable  among  the 
family  relics  is  the  gold  snuff-box,  presented  by  the  Corpora- 
tion of  New- York  with  the  freedom  of  the  city  to  "  his  Excel- 
lency, John  Jay/'  on  the  4th  of  October,  1784,  not  long  after 
his  return  from  diplomatic  service  in  Spain  and  at  Paris. 
An  old  French  Bible  contains  the  following  memoranda  : 
"  Auguste  Jay,  est  ne  a  la  Kochelle  dans  la  Koyaume  de 
France  le  f|  Mars,  1665.  Laus  Deo.  K  York,  July  ye  10th, 
1773,  this  day  at  4  o'clock  in  ye  morning  dyed  Eva  Yan  Cort- 
landt, was  buried  ye  next  day  ye  12  en  ye  voute  at  Mr.  Stuy- 
vesant's  about  six  and  seven  o'clock." 

In  the  opening  of  a  wood  on  the  southeast  of  the  mansion 
is  the  family  cemetery,  where  are  interred  the  remains  of  the 
ancestors  of  the  Jays.  Over  the  grave  of  the  Chief  Justice  is 
the  following  inscription,  written  by  his  son,  Peter  Augustus 
Jay: 


202 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

JOHN  JAY, 

EMINENT  AMONG  THOSE  WHO  ASSERTED  THE  LIBERTY 
AND  ESTABLISHED  THE  INDEPENDENCE 
OF   HIS  COUNTRY, 
"WHICH  HE  LONG  SERVED  IN  THE  MOST 
IMPORTANT  OFFICES, 
LEGISLATIVE,  EXECUTIVE,  JUDICIAL,  AND  DIPLOMATIC, 
AND  DISTINGUISHED  IN  THEM  ALL  BY  HIS 
ABILITY,  FIRMNESS,  PATRIOTISM,  AND  INTEGRITY, 
HE  WAS  IN  HIS  LIFE,   AND   IN  HIS  DEATH, 
AN  EXAMPLE   OF  THE  VIRTUES, 
THE  FAITH  AND  THE  HOPES 
OF   A  CHRISTIAN. 

Born,  Dec.  12,  1745, 
Died,  May  17,  1829. 

According  to  his  expressed  desire,  the  body  of  Mr.  Jay  was 
not  deposited  in  the  family  vault,  but  committed  to  the  bosom 
of  the  earth.  He  always  strenuously  protested  against  what 
he  considered  the  heathenish  attempt  to  rescue  the  worthless 
relics  of  mortality  from  that  dissolution,  which  seems  to  be 
their  natural  and  appropriate  destination.  Within  the  same 
cemetery  are  also  memorials  to  Sir  James  Jay,  Peter  Jay 
Munroe,  Peter  Jay,  Goldsborough  Banyar,  Harriet  Yan  Cort- 
landt,  and  other  members  of  the  family. 

Pierre  Jay,  to  whom  the  Jays  of  this  country  trace  their 
origin,  was  one  of  those  noble  and  inflexible  Huguenots  who 
were  driven  from  France  by  the  Eevocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes,  a  measure  which  deprived  that  kingdom  of  more  than 
one-fourth  of  the  most  industrious  and  desirable  class  of  its  po- 


jay.  203 

pulation.  His  descendants,  settling  in  this  country,  retained 
the  characteristics  which  had  distinguished  their  forefathers, 
and  became  among  its  most  respectable  and  prosperous  inhab- 
itants. Peter  Jay,  the  grandson  of  Pierre  Jay,  and,  like  him, 
engaged  in  mercantile  pursuits,  was  married  in  the  year  1728 
to  Mary,  the  daughter  of  Jacobus  Van  Cortlandt,  and  was 
the  father  of  ten  children,  of  whom  John  was  the  eighth.  Sel- 
dom has  a  son  been  more  fortunate  in  his  parents.  "  Both 
father  and  mother,"  we  are  told  by  the  biographer,  "were  ac- 
tuated by  sincere  and  fervent  piety ;  both  had  warm  hearts 
and  cheerful  tempers,  and  both  possessed,  under  varied  and 
severe  trials,  a  remarkable  degree  of  equanimity.  But  in  other 
respects  they  differed  widely.  He  possessed  strong  and  mas- 
culine sense,  was  a  shrewd  observer  and  accurate  judge  of  men, 
resolute,  persevering  and  prudent,  an  affectionate  father,  a 
kind  master,  but  governing  all  under  his  control  with  mild 
but  absolute  sway.  She  had  a  cultivated  mind  and  a  fine 
imagination.  Mild  and  affectionate  in  her  temper  and  man- 
ners, she  took  delight  in  the  duties  as  well  as  in  the  pleasures 
of  domestic  life ;  while  a  eheerful  resignation  to  the  will  of 
Providence  during  many  years  of  sickness  and  suffering  bore 
witness  to  the  strength  of  her  religious  faith." 

Under  the  tutelage  of  such  a  mother  was  John  Jay  edu- 
cated till  his  eighth  year,  and  from  her  he  learned  the  rudi- 
ments of  English  and  Latin  grammar.  Even  at  this  tender 
age,  the  gravity  of  his  disposition,  his  discretion  and  his  fond- 
ness for  books  were  subjects  of  common  remark.  When  eight 
years  old,  he  was  committed  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Stoope,  a 
French  clergyman  and  keeper  of  a  grammar-school  at  New 
Kochelle,  with  whom  he  remained  for  about  three  years.  This 


204         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

gentleman  being  unfitted  by  reason  of  his  oddities  and  improv- 
idence for  the  efficient  supervision  of  the  establishment,  left 
the  young  pupils,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
his  wife,  a  woman  of  extremely  penurious  habits  ;  by  whom, 
we  are  told,  they  were  "treated  with  little  food  and  much 
scolding."  Every  thing  about  the  house  under  the  manage- 
ment of  this  ill-assorted  pair  went  to  ruin,  and  the  young  stu- 
dent was  often  obliged,  in  order  to  protect  his  bed  from  the 
drifting  snow,  to  close  up  the  broken  panes  with  bits  of  wood. 
Various  other  inconveniences  fell  to  the  lot  of  young  Jay,  but 
it  is  probable  that  the  rigid  discipline  of  Mrs.  Stoope  was  not 
without  its  advantages.  It  had  the  effect  of  throwing  its  sub- 
ject  on  his  own  resources,  and  taught  him  to  disregard  those 
thousand  petty  annoyances  which,  after  all,  are  the  chief 
causes  of  human  misery,  and  which  often  disturb  the  tranquil- 
lity of  the  strongest  minds. 

From  Mr.  Stoope  he  was  transferred  to  a  private  tutor,  and 
in  his  fifteenth  year  entered  King's,  now  Columbia  College,  at 
that  time  in  its  infancy.  Here,  as  might  have  been  supposed, 
his  conduct,  exemplary  character  and  scholarship  won  him  the 
esteem  and  respect  of  all.  Beside  the  improvement  and  ex- 
pansion of  his  intellect,  and  the  opportunity  of  measuring 
himself  with  companions  of  the  same  age  and  the  same 
studies,  he  received  other  advantages  from  these  four  years 
of  college  training.  His  attention  being  called  to  certain 
deficiencies  which  might  impede  his  future  success,  he  at 
once  set  himself  at  work  to  remedy  them.  An  indistinct 
articulation  and  a  faulty  pronunciation  of  the  letter  L,  he  was 
able  by  the  constant  study  and  practice  of  the  rules  of  elocu- 
tion entirely  to  remove.    Special  attention  was  also  paid  to 


JAY. 


205 


English  composition,  by  which  he  attained  that  admirable 
style,  which  in  purity  and  classical  finish  was  afterwards  not 
surpassed  by  that  of  any  other  contemporary  statesman,  a  style 
polished  but  not  emasculate,  and  of  such  flexibility  as  to  adapt 
itself  equally  well  to  the  vehemence  of  patriotic  appeal,  the 
guarded  precision  of  diplomatic  correspondence,  or  to  the  grave 
and  authoritative  judgments  of  the  bench.  He  also  adopted 
Pope's  plan  of  keeping  by  his  bedside  a  table  supplied  with 
writing  materials,  in  order  to  record  at  the  moment  of  its  sug- 
gestion any  idea  which  might  occur  to  him  in  waking. 

During  his  senior  year,  the  young  student  had  occasion  to 
display  that  decision  and  firmness  which  at  a  later  period  shone 
so  conspicuously  in  affairs  of  greater  moment.  Certain  mis- 
chief-making classmates,  perhaps  to  avenge  themselves  on  the 
steward,  untertook  to  break  the  table  in  the  college  hall.  The 
noise  produced  by  this  operation  reaching  the  ears  of  Dr. 
Cooper,  the  President,  that  arbitrary  personage  suddenly  pounc- 
ed upon  them  without  leaving  them  a  chance  of  escape.  The 
young  men  were  at  once  formed  in  a  line  and  two  questions — 
"  Did  you  break  the  table  ?  Do  you  know  who  did  ?  " — were 
each  answered  by  an  emphatic  "  No,"  until  they  were  put  to 
J  ay,  the  last  but  one  in  the  line,  who  had  indeed  been  present 
at  the  disturbance  but  took  no  part  in  it  ;  to  the  first  question 
he  replied  in  the  negative,  to  the  second  his  answer  was  "  Yes, 
sir,"  and  to  the  further  inquiry — "  Who  was  it  ?  " — he  promptly 
said,  "  I  do  not  choose  to  tell  you,  sir."  The  remaining  stu- 
dent followed  J  ay's  example.  The  two  young  men,  after  re- 
sisting the  expostulations  of  the  President,  were  summoned  be- 
fore the  Faculty  for  trial,  where  Jay  appeared  for  the  de- 
fence.   To  the  allegation  that  they  had  been  guilty  of  violat- 


206         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

ing  their  written  promise,  on  their  admission,  of  obedience  to 
the  college  statutes,  Jay  responded  that  they  were  not  re- 
quired by  those  statutes  to  inform  against  their  companions, 
and  that  therefore  his  refusal  to  do  so  was  not  an  act  of  dis- 
obedience. Keasonable  as  this  defence  might  appear,  it,  of 
course,  failed  to  satisfy  judges,  clothed  with  executive  powers, 
and  anxious  to  punish  the  least  disregard  of  their  own  autho- 
rity, and  the  two  delinquents  were  at  once  rusticated.  At  the 
termination  of  his  sentence  Jay  returned  to  college,  where  his 
reception  by  the  instructors  proved  that  he  had  suffered  no  loss 
of  their  esteem.  On  the  15th  of  May,  1764,  he  was  graduated 
with  the  highest  collegiate  honors. 

On  leaving  college,  Jay  entered  the  office  of  Benjamin 
Kissam,  in  the  city  of  New- York,  as  a  student  at  law.  Be- 
tween this  gentleman  and  himself  a  degree  of  familiarity  and 
mutual  respect  existed,  quite  remarkable  considering  their 
relative  positions  and  their  disparity  of  years.  For  two  years 
in  the  office  of  Mr.  Kissam,  he  was  the  fellow  student  of  the 
celebrated  grammarian,  Lindley  Murray,  with  whom  he  formed 
an  enduring  friendship,  and  who,  in  a  posthumous  memoir  of 
himself,  thus  alludes  to  his  companion  :  "His  talents  and  vir- 
tues gave,  at  that  period,  pleasing  indications  of  future  emi- 
nence; he  was  remarkable  for  strong  reasoning  powers,  compre- 
hensive views,  indefatigable  application,  and  uncommon,  firm- 
ness of  mind.  With  these  qualifications  added  to  a  just  taste 
in  literature,  and  ample  stores  of  learning  and  knowledge,  he 
was  happily  prepared  to  enter  on  that  career  of  public  virtue 
by  which  he  was  afterward  so  honorably  distinguished,  and 
made  instrumental  in  promoting  the  good  of  his  country/' 
Murray  was  a  tall,  handsome  man,  the  son  of  Kobert  Murray, 


JAY. 


207 


a  venerable  quaker  of  New- York,  the  location  of  whose  farm 
at  the  lower  part  of  the  city  is  still  pointed  out  by  the  anti- 
quarian. Mr.  Jay  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1768,  and  in 
the  pursuit  of  his  profession  so  extended  his  reputation  that 
he  was  soon  after  appointed  secretary  of  the  commission  named 
by  the  king  to  determine  the  disputed  boundary  between  the 
States  of  New- York  and  New  Jersey.  In  1774  he  was  married 
to  Sarah,  the  youngest  daughter  of  William  Livingston,  an  emi- 
nent supporter  of  the  American  cause  during  the  Kevolution, 
and  afterwards  for  many  years  governor  of  New  Jersey. 

The  limits  to  which  we  are  confined  allow  us  to  take  but 
a  brief  notice  of  Mr.  Jay's  numerous  and  most  valuable  public 
services,  extending  over  a  period  of  twenty-eight  years,  and  ter- 
minating with  his  retirement  in  1801  from  the  office  of  gov- 
ernor of  his  native  State.  In  no  one  of  the  colonies  had  the 
cause  of  resistance  to  the  mother  country  less  encouragement 
than  in  New- York,  and  in  no  other  could  Great  Britain  num- 
ber so  many  influential  allies,  yet,  on  the  receipt  of  the  news 
of  the  enforcement  of  the  Boston  Port  Bill,  Mr.  Jay  took  a 
decided  stand  on  the  side  of  the  patriots.  At  a  meeting  of 
the  citizens  of  New- York,  May  16,  1774,  we  find  him  on  a 
committee  of  fifty  appointed  "  to  correspond  with  the  sister 
colonies  on  all  matters  of  moment."  Young  as  he  was,  he 
was  required  to  draft  the  response  to  the  proposal  of  the  Bos- 
ton committee  for  a  Congress  of  deputies  from  "  the  colonies  in 
general."  In  the  first  Congress  in  the  same  year,  he  was  a 
member  of  some  of  the  most  important  committees.  The 
"Address  to  the  People  of  Great  Britain,"  the  distinguishing 
act  of  that  Congress,  was  drafted  by  Mr.  Jay.  This  eloquent 
document  was  pronounced  by  Jefferson,  then  ignorant  of  its 


208  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

author,  to  be  "  the  production  certainly  of  the  finest  pen  in 
America/'  and  Mr.  Webster  considered  it  as  standing  "at  the 
head  of  the  incomparable  productions  of  that  body  [the  first 
Congress],  productions  which  called  forth  the  decisive  com- 
mendation of  Lord  Chatham,  in  which  he  pronounced  them 
not  inferior  to  the  finest  productions  of  the  master  minds  of 
the  world." 

In  the  interim  between  the  close  of  the  first,  and  the  open- 
ing in  May  1775  of  the  second  Congress,  Jay  was  incessantly 
engaged  in  the  service  of  his  country ;  and  when  the  delegates 
had  reassembled,  his  pen  was  again  employed  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  two  addresses  to  the  inhabitants  of  Jamaica  and 
of  Ireland.  Some  reluctance  being  shown  on  the  part  of 
wealthy  and  influential  citizens  to  serve  in  a  military  capacity, 
he,  without  hesitation,  sought  and  accepted  a  commission  as 
colonel  of  a  regiment  of  the  new  militia  ;  but  his  legislative 
ability  and  eloquence  were  too  highly  valued  to  allow  of  his 
absence  from  Congress,  and  he  never  actually  joined  his  com- 
pany. A  second  address  of  Congress  to  the  king  having  been 
treated  with  insult,  and  all  hope  of  accommodation  being  aban- 
doned, he  became  one  of  the  foremost  advocates  of  warlike 
measures ;  and,  while  on  a  committee  for  that  purpose,  de- 
vised a  series  of  plans  for  crippling  the  resources  of  England, 
which  were  adopted  by  Congress  in  March  1776,  nearly  three 
mouths  previous  to  the  formal  act  of  severance  in  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence.  At  the  adoption  of  this  measure,  in 
consequence  of  his  election  to  the  Provincial  Congress  of  New- 
York  in  April  of  that  year,  Jay  was  unable  to  affix  his  signa- 
ture to  that  instrument,  but,  as  chairman  of  the  committee  to 
whom  the  subject  had  been  referred,  he  reported  a  resolution, 


JAY. 


209 


pledging  that  State  to  its  support.  Shortly  after  came  the 
most  gloomy  period  of  the  revolutionary  cause  in  New- York; 
a  hostile  army  was  invading  the  State  from  the  north,  inspired 
by  the  defeat  of  the  American  forces  on  Long  Island,  the  city 
was  in  possession  of  the  enemy,  and  what  was  worse,  treachery 
and  despair  existed  among  the  people  themselves.  A  commit- 
tee of  public  safety  was  appointed  by  the  Provincial  Congress, 
clothed  with  dictatorial  powers,  of  which  Jay  acted  as  chairman. 
At  tliis  juncture  also,  Mr.  Jay,  by  appointment,  put  forth  the 
thrilling  address  of  the  convention  to  their  constituents,  an  ap- 
peal written  in  the  most  exalted  strain  of  patriotic  eloquence, 
in  which  he  rebukes  the  defection  and  stimulates  the  flagging 
hopes  of  the  people  with  the  zeal  and  indignant  energy  of  an 
ancient  prophet. 

In  1777,  Jay,  from  a  committee  appointed  the  year  before, 
drafted  a  State  Constitution,  Avhich  received  the  sanction  of 
the  legislature.  There  were  certain  provisions  which  he  de- 
sired to  introduce  in  that  instrument,  and  which  he  thought 
more  likely  to  be  adopted  when  proposed  in  the  form  of 
amendments  than  if  they  should  be  incorporated  into  the 
first  draft ;  but  a  summons  to  the  side  of  his  dying  mo- 
ther prevented  the  realization  of  his  wishes.  One  of  the 
amendments  which  he  intended  to  urge,  was  a  provision 
for  the  gradual  abolition  of  slavery  within  the  limits  of  the 
State.  Under  the  new  constitution,  having  been  appointed 
to  the  office  of  Chief- Justice,  he  was  ineligible  by  that  in- 
strument to  any  other  post,  except  on  a  "  special  occasion," 
but,  in  consequence  of  a  difficulty  arising  between  his  own, 
and  the  neighboring  State  of  Vermont,  the  legislature  took 
advantage  of  the  exception,  and  elected  him  delegate  to 


210  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Congress.  Without  vacating,  therefore,  his  judicial  seat,  he 
complied  with  their  appointment,  and  soon  after  his  en- 
trance in  Congress  became  its  presiding  officer.  The  impos- 
sibility, however,  of  doing  full  justice  to  both  his  judicial 
and  legislative  duties,  induced  him  to  resign  his  seat  on  the 
bench.  Congress  now  employed  his  pen  in  writing  the  circular 
letter  to  the  States,  urging  them  to  furnish  additional  funds 
for  the  war.  This  statesmanlike  exposition  of  the  govern- 
ment's financial  condition  closes  with  a  noble  appeal  to  the  na- 
tional honor. 

"  Eouse,  therefore,  strive  who  shall  do  most  for  his  country ; 
rekindle  that  flame  of  patriotism,  which,  at  the  mention  of 
disgrace  and  slavery,  blazed  throughout  America  and  ani- 
mated all  her  citizens.  Determine  to  finish  the  contest  as  you 
began  it,  honestly  and  gloriously.  Let  it  never  be  said  that 
America  had  no  sooner  become  independent  than  she  became 
insolvent,  or  that  her  infant  glories  and  growing  fame  were  ob- 
scured and  tarnished  by  broken  contracts  and  -  violated  faith,  in 
the  very  hour  when  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  were  admiring 
and  almost  adoring  the  splendor  of  her  rising/' 

In  1779,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  he  sailed  for  Spain,  as 
minister  plenipotentiary,  in  order  to  secure  the  concurrence  of 
that  kingdom  in  the  treaty  with  France,  recognizing  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  United  States ;  and  though  his  diplomatic  ne- 
gotiations were  conducted  in  the  most  honorable  spirit,  and 
with  consummate  prudence  and  ability,  the  object  of  his  mission 
was  finally  frustrated  by  the  selfish  policy  of  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernment, in  requiring  America  to  surrender  the  right  of  navi- 
gating on  the  Mississippi.  It  was  during  his  residence  at  the 
Spanish  court,  that  the  desperate  financial  embarrassments  of 


JAY. 


211 


Congress  prompted  a  measure  equally  unjust  to  their  represent- 
ative abroad  and  hazardous  to  the  national  credit.  Presuming 
upon  the  success  of  his  mission,  they  had  empowered  their 
treasurer  to  draw  on  Mr.  Jay  bills  payable  at  six  months,  for 
half  a  million  of  dollars.  As  these  bills  came  in,  the  minister 
was  placed  in  a  situation  of  extreme  perplexity,  but  his  regard 
for  his  country's  reputation  overcame  all  private  considerations ; 
he  adopted  the  patriotic  but  desperate  expedient  of  making 
himself  personally  responsible  for  their  payment,  and  his  ac- 
ceptances had  exceeded  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  before 
any  relief  came  to  hand.  Mr.  Jay's  residence  in  Spain  also 
subjected  him  to  other  trials,  only  less  severe  than  the  one 
just  mentioned  ;  the  vexatious  obstacles  placed  in  way  of  his 
negotiations  by  the  Spanish  government ;  the  insufficiency  of 
his  salary  at  the  most  expensive  court  in  Europe ;  the  frequent 
removal  of  the  court  from  place  to  place,  at  the  royal  pleasure, 
involving  the  absence  of  his  wife,  whom,  for  pecuniary  reasons, 
he  was  unable  to  take  with  him ;  the  death  of  his  young  child, 
and  his  anxiety  for  the  family  whom  he  had  left  at  home, 
exposed  to  the  clangers  of  war,  and  from  whom,  for  more 
than  a  year,  not  a  line  had  been  received,  might  well  have 
harassed  a  less  sensitive  nature  than  his.  The  fortitude 
with  which  he  sustained  these  annoyances  may  be  seen  in  a 
letter  written  by  him  about  this  time  to  his  friend,  Egbert 
Benson,  of  New- York.    It  commences  thus  : 

"Dear  Benson  : 

"  When  shall  we  again,  by  a  cheerful  fire,  or  under  a  shady 
tree,  recapitulate  our  juvenile  pursuits  or  pleasures,  or  look 
back  on  the  extensive  field  of  politics  we  once  have  trod- 


212  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

clen  ?  Our  plans  of  life  have,  within  these  few  years  past, 
been  strangely  changed.  Our  country,  I  hope,  will  be  the 
better  for  the  alterations.  How  far  we  individually  may  be 
benefited  is  more  questionable.  Personal  considerations,  how- 
ever, must  give  way  to  public  ones,  and  the  consciousness  of 
having  done  our  duty  to  our  country  and  posterity,  must  re- 
compense us  for  all  the  evils  we  experience  in  their  cause/' 

From  Spain,  by  order  of  Congress,  Jay  proceeded  to  Paris 
to  arrange,  in  conjunction  with  Franklin,  Adams,  Jefferson, 
and  Laurens,  the  Definitive  Treaty  of  Peace  with  England, — 
the  most  important  diplomatic  act  of  the  eighteenth  century  : 
and  we  have  the  testimony  of  Mr.  Fitzherbert,  then  the  Eng- 
lish minister  resident  in  Paris,  that  "it  was  not  only  chiefly 
but  solely  through  his  means  that  the  negotiations  of  that 
period  between  England  and  the  United  States  were  brought 
to  a  successful  conclusion."  Mr.  Oswald  had  arrived  in  Paris 
with  a  commission,  in  which  the  United  States  were  men- 
tioned under  the  designation  of  "colonies,"  but  Jay,  although 
his  associates  did  not  participate  in  his  scruples,  refused  to 
begin  negotiations  without  a  preliminary  recognition  on  the 
part  of  England  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States ; 
and  owing  to  his  firmness  a  new  commission  was  obtained  from 
the  king,  in  which  that  most  essential  point  (as  the  sequel 
proved)  was  gained.  Declining  the  appointment  now  tendered 
him  by  Congress  of  commissioner  to  negotiate  a  commercial 
treaty  with  England,  Jay  returned  to  his  country.  On  ar- 
riving at  Now- York  he  was  welcomed  by  a  most  enthusiastic 
public  reception,  and  was  presented  by  the  corporation  of  New- 
York  with  the  freedom  of  the  city  in  a  gold  box.    The  office 


JAY. 


213 


of  Secretary  for  foreign  affairs,  which,  for  the  want  of  a  suitable 
incumbent,  had  been  vacant  for  two  years,  was  at  this  time 
urged  by  Congress  upon  his  acceptance,  and  he  did  not  feel 
at  liberty  to  refuse  his  services.  He  was  now  virtually  at  the 
head  of  public  affairs.  The  whole  foreign  correspondence  of 
the  government,  the  proposal  of  plans  of  treaties,  instructions 
to  ministers  abroad,  and  the  submission  of  reports  on  all  mat- 
ters to  which  Congress  might  call  his  attention,  came  within 
the  scope  of  his  new  duties. 

Mr.  Jay  was  among  the  first  of  our  statesmen  to  perceive 
the  defects  of  the  confederation,  and  to  urge  the  necessity  of  a 
new  and  more  efficient  system  of  government.  Besides  his 
contributions  to  the  Federalist,  he  wrote  an  address  to  the  peo- 
ple of  New- York,  then  the  very  citadel  of  the  opposition  to  the 
proposed  Constitution,  which  had  no  unimportant  effect  in  se- 
curing its  adoption.  In  the  State  Convention,  which  had  as- 
sembled with  only  eleven  out  of  fifty-seven  members  in  its  favor, 
J  ay  took  a  most  influential  part,  and  mainly  owing  to  his  ex- 
ertions was  it  finally  ratified.  At  the  commencement  of  the 
administration  of  Washington,  he  was  invited  by  that  great 
man  to  select  his  own  post  in  the  newly-formed  government. 
He  was  accordingly  appointed  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  and  well  did  he  justify,  in  his  new  capacity,  the  glow- 
ing eulogium  of  Webster,  that  "  when  the  spotless  ermine  of 
the  judicial  robe  fell  on  John  Jay  it  touched  nothing  less  spot- 
less than  itself."  In  the  performance  of  his  duties  as  the  first 
Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court,  much,  was  accomplished 
by  him  in  organizing  the  business  of  the  court,  expounding  the 
principles  of  its  decisions,  and  in  commending  them  to  a  con- 
federacy of  sovereign  States,  already  sufficiently  jealous  of  its 


214         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

extensive  but  beneficent  jurisdiction.  His  decision  in  the 
novel  case  of  a  suit  instituted  against  the  State  of  Georgia  by 
a  citizen  of  another  State,  is  a  memorable  instance  of  his  firm- 
ness and  judicial  ability. 

The  year  1794  opened  with  every  prospect  of  a  disastrous 
war  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States.  The  Kevo- 
lution  did  not  terminate  without  leaving  in  the  minds  of 
Americans  a  strong  and  perhaps  an  unreasonable  antipathy  to 
the  mother  country,  which  was  stimulated  by  the  unwise  in- 
terference of  Genet,  the  French  minister,  in  our  politics,  and 
by  the  exertions  of  a  large  class  of  British  refugees,  who  had  es- 
caped to  our  country  still  smarting  under  the  oppressions  which 
they  had  experienced  at  home,  and  who  were  extremely  de- 
sirous of  plunging  the  American  government  into  the  contest 
which  was  then  raging  between  France  and  England.  There 
were  also  certain  substantial  grievances  universally  admitted  by 
our  citizens,  which  would  give  some  countenance  to  such  a  mea- 
sure on  the  part  of  America.  Among  these  were  enumerated  the 
detention  in  violation  of  the  treaty  of  the  posts  on  our  western 
frontier  by  British  garrisons,  thereby  excluding  the  navigation 
by  Americans  of  the  great  lakes,  the  refusal  to  make  compen- 
sation for  the  negroes  carried  away  during  the  war  by  the  Bri- 
tish fleet,  the  exclusion  and  capture  of  American  vessels  carry- 
ing supplies  to  French  ports,  and  the  seizure  of  our  ships 
in  the  exercise  of  the  pretended  right  of  search.  These, 
and  other  outrages,  were  justified  by  Great  Britain,  on  the 
ground  of  certain  equivalent  infractions  of  the  treaty  by  the 
American  nation.  Washington  however  could  not  be  induced 
to  consent  to  hazard  the  na^'onal  interests,  by  transgressing 
that  neutrality  so  necessary  to  a  young  republic  only  just  re- 


JAY. 


215 


covering  from  the  severe  experience  of  a  seven  years'  war,  and 
he  saw  no  other  honorable  means  of  averting  the  impending 
danger  than  the  appointment  of  a  special  envoy,  empowered 
to  adjust  the  matters  in  dispute.  For  this  purpose,  on  his 
nomination,  Mr.  Jay  was  confirmed  on  the  20th  of  April,  1794, 
by  the  Senate,  as  Minister  to  England,  at  which  country  he 
arrived  in  June  of  that  year.  The  treaty  was  signed  in  No- 
vember following,  and  the  negotiations  of  the  two  ministers, 
Lord  Grenville  and  Mr.  Jay,  were  greatly  facilitated  by  their 
mutual  esteem  and  the  good  understanding  existing  between 
them  ;  and  their  correspondence,  which  was  characterized  by 
signal  ability  on  both  sides,  affords  an  instance  of  diplomatic 
straightforwardness  and  candor  almost  without  a  parallel  in 
history.  It  is  not  consistent  with  the  plan  of  our  sketch  to 
speak  of  the  provisions  of  the  treaty  thus  secured :  it  was  not, 
in  all  respects,  what  Jay,  or  the  country  desired ;  but  in  view 
of  the  immense  advantages  to  our  commerce  obtained  by  it, 
the  complicated  and  delicate  questions  adjusted,  and  the  dis- 
asters which  would  have  befallen  the  nation  had  it  been  de- 
feated, it  will  challenge  comparison  with  any  subsequent  in- 
ternational arrangement  to  which  the  United  States  have 
been  a  party.  Yet,  incredible  as  would  seem,  the  abuse  and 
scurrility  with  which  both  it  and  its  author  were  loaded,  dis- 
closes one  of  the  most  disgraceful  chapters  in  the  records  of 
political  fanaticism.  By  an  eminent  member  of  the  opposing 
party,  he  was  declared  to  have  perpetrated  "  an  infamous  act," 
an  act  "  stamped  with  avarice  and  corruption."  He  himself 
was  termed  "  a  damned  arch-traitor,"  "  sold  to  Great  Britain," 
and  the  treaty  burned  before  his  door.  Enjoying  the  confi- 
dence of  the  illustrious  Washington,  and  of  the  wisest  anil 


216  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

best  men  of  his  country,  in  his  course,  and  above  all,  the  in- 
ward assurance  of  his  unswerving  rectitude,  Jay  might  well 
forgive  these  ebullitions  of  party  spleen  and  await  the  sanction 
which  has  been  conferred  on  his  actions  by  the  impartial  voice 
of  posterity. 

But  no  statesman  of  that  time  had,  on  the  whole,  less  rea- 
son to  complain  of  popular  ingratitude  than  Jay  ;  before  he 
reached  his  native  shore,  a  large  majority  of  the  people  of 
New- York  had  expressed  their  approbation  of  his  conduct  by 
electing  him  to  the  office  of  Governor.  While  in  this  office, 
the  appropriate  close  of  his  public  career,  besides  suggesting 
many  useful  measures  in  regard  to  education  and  internal  im- 
provements, the  benefits  of  which  are  experienced  to  this  day, 
he  had  the  happiness  of  promoting  and  witnessing  the  passage 
by  the  Legislature  of  the  act  for  the  gradual  abolition  of 
slavery  in  his  native  State.  Of  this  measure  he  was  one  of 
the  earliest  advocates,  having  served  as  the  first  President  of 
the  Society  of  Manumission,  which  had  been  organized  in  1786 
by  a  number  of  the  most  respectable  gentlemen  in  New- York, 
and  to  whose  disinterested  exertions  the  success  of  the  anti- 
slavery  cause  was  mainly  due.  On  accepting  the  seat  ten- 
dered to  him  in  the  Supreme  Court,  Jay,  fearing  that  the 
presidency  of  the  society  might  prove  an  embarrassment  in  the 
decision  of  some  questions  which  might  come  before  him,  re- 
signed the  office  and  was  succeeded  by  Hamilton,  who  con- 
tinued to  discharge  its  duties  till  the  year  1793. 

At  the  expiration  of  his  second  gubernatorial  term  in  1801, 
Jay,  contrary  to  the  importunities  of  his  friends,  retired  from 
public  life,  having,  for  twenty-seven  years,  faithfully  served  his 
country  in  every  department  of  legislative,  diplomatic,  and 


JAY. 


217 


judicial  trust.  Declining  the  office  of  Chief  Justice,  which 
was  again  pressed  by  the  President  upon  his  acceptance,  he 
prepared  to  enjoy  that  congenial  seclusion  under  the  shade  of 
his  patrimonial  trees,  which,  through  all  the  varied  and  agi- 
tating scenes  of  political  life,  had  been  the  object  of  his  most 
ardent  desires.  In  accordance  with  this  design,  he  had  built  a 
substantial  house  at  Bedford,  about  forty-four  miles  from  New- 
York,  on  an  estate  embracing  some  eight  hundred  acres, 
which  had  come  to  him  by  inheritance.  Here,  in  one  of 
the  most  delightful  localities  in  the  fertile  county  of  Westches- 
ter, in  the  care  of  his  family  and  estates,  in  the  society  of  his 
friends  and  his  books,  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  neigh- 
borly benevolence,  and  in  the  preparation  for  those  immortal 
scenes  which  he  had  reason  to  suppose  would  soon  open  upon 
him,  he  passed  the  tranquil  remainder  of  his  days.  But  his 
enjoyments  were  not  destined  to  exempt  him  from  those  bitter 
but  universal  visitations,  which,  at  times,  overthrow  the  happi- 
ness and  frustrate  the  most  pleasing  anticipations  of  our  race. 
In  less  than  twelve  months  after  his  retirement,  the  partner 
of  his  joys  and  sorrows,  who,  by  her  accomplishments,  her  un- 
obtrusive virtues  and  solicitous  affection,  had  been  at  once  his 
delight  and  support,  was  taken  from  him.  At  the  final  hour, 
Jay,  as  the  biographer  tells  us,  stood  by  the  bedside  "calm 
and  collected,"  and  when  the  spirit  had  taken  its  departure, 
led  his  children  to  an  adjoining  room,  and  with  "a  firm  voice 
but  glistening  eye"  read  that  inspiring  and  wonderful  chapter 
in  which  Paul  has  discussed  the  mystery  of  our  future  resur- 
rection. 

Considering  its  natural  advantages  and  its  connection  by 
railway  with  the  great  metropolis,  Bedford,  the  ancient  half 


218  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

shire  town  of  Westchester  County,  can  hardly  be  praised  on 
the  score  of  its  "progressive"  tendencies.  At  the  time  of  Jay's 
residence  there,  the  mail-coach  from  New- York,  employing 
two  long  days  in  the  journey,  visited  the  town  once  a  week, 
and  even  now  the  locomotive  which  thunders  through  it  per- 
haps a  dozen  times  a  day,  hardly  disturbs  its  rural  quietude. 
It  may,  however,  claim  considerable  distinction  in  the  annals 
of  Indian  warfare,  for,  within  its  limits,  on  the  southern  side 
of  Aspetong  Mountain,  is  still  pointed  out  the  scene  of  a 
bloody  conflict  between  the  savages  "and  the  redoubtable  band 
of  Captain  Underhill,  in  which  the  latter  coming  suddenly  at 
night  on  a  village  of  their  foes,  slaughtered  them  without 
mercy  to  the  number  of  five  hundred;  c:  the  Lord,"  as  the 
record  goes,  "  having  collected  the  most  of  our  enemies  there, 
to  celebrate  some  festival."  Bedford  was  formerly  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  Connecticut,  and  the  apparent  thrift  and  in- 
dependent bearing  of  its  farming  population  are  decided  indi- 
cations of  their  New  England  descent.  Its  situation  is  un- 
commonly pleasant  and  healthful,  and  although  the  surface  of 
the  country  is  somewhat  rocky  and  uneven,  the  soil  is  excel- 
lently adapted  for  agricultural  purposes.  The  higher  grounds 
display  an  abundant  growth  of  all  varieties  of  oak,  elm,  ash, 
linden,  chestnut,  walnut,  locust,  and  tulip  trees,  while  its  fer- 
tile valleys  and  its  sunny  hillside  exposures  furnish  ample  spaces 
for  pasturage  or  cultivation.  A  number  of  beautiful  streams 
water  the  meadows,  of  which  the  two  largest,  the  Cisco  or 
Beaver  Dam,  and  Cross  Kiver,  after  flowing  for  a  long  distance 
separately,  just  before  leaving  the  town,  wisely  conclude  to 
unite  their  forces  and  bear  a  generous  tribute  to  the  waters  of 
the  Croton.    The  Beaver  Dam  derives  its  name  from  having 


JAY. 


219 


once  been  the  favorite  haunt  of  the  beavers,  who  in  former 
times  found  a  plentiful  sustenance  in  the  bark  of  the  willows, 
maples  and  birches  which  still  linger  on  its  banks. 

The  traveller  who  wishes  to  survey  the  mansion  of  "  the 
good  old  governor/'  as  Mr.  Jay  is  still  called  by  those  villagers 
who  remember  his  liberality  and  benevolent  interest  in  their 
welfare,  leaves  the  Harlem  railroad  at  Katona,  the  northwest 
portion  of  the  town,  so  called  from  the  name  of  the  Indian 
chief,  who  formerly  claimed  dominion  of  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try, and  proceeds  in  a  southeasterly  direction  along  a  road 
somewhat  winding  and  hilly,  tiresome  enough  certainly  to  the 
pedestrian,  but  occasionally  relieving  him  with  exhilarating 
prospects  on  either  side  of  farmhouses  with  well-stored  and 
ample  barns,  wooded  hills  with  green  intervales,  waving  fields  of 
grain,  and  pastures  of  well-fed,  contemplative  cattle,  who  shake 
their  heads  as  if  their  meditations  were  a  little  disturbed  by  Ins 
presence.  Every  thing  about  the  farms  has  the  aspect  of  good 
order  and  thrift,  and  nothing  mars  the  general  impression  ex- 
cept the  occasional  sight  of  some  happy  family  of  swine,  who 
appear  to  exercise  a  sort  of  right  of  eminent  domain  among 
the  weeds  and  roots  on  the  roadside.  A  snow-white  sow  with 
thirty  snow-white  young,  according  to  an  ancient  poet,  was  the 
immediate  inducement  to  iEneas  in  selecting  the  site  of  his  fu- 
ture city ;  whether  such  an  attraction  would  prove  equally 
potent  in  our  own  times,  is  more  questionable.  As  one  aj> 
proaches  the  estate  of  Jay,  the  marks  of  superior  taste  and 
cultivation  are  ap23arent ;  the  stone  walls  are  more  neatly  and 
compactly  built,  and  the  traveller  is  refreshed  by  the  grateful 
shade  of  the  long  rows  of  maples  and  elms  which  were  planted 
along  the  road  by  Jay  and  his  descendants,  some  of  whom  still 


220  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

make  their  summer  residence  in  Bedford.  After  proceeding 
for  two  or  three  miles  from  the  railroad  station,  we  turn  up  a 
shaded  avenue  on  the  left,  which  winds  round  the  southern 
slope  of  the  hill,  at  the  top  of  which  stands  the  modest  man- 
sion of  John  Jay.  This  is  a  dark  brown  wooden  two-storied 
building,  facing  the  southwest,  with  an  addition  of  one  story 
at  each  end,  the  main  building  having  a  front  of  forty-five 
feet,  along  which  is  extended  a  porch  of  ample  dimensions. 
Passing  through  the  hall  we  find  in  the  rear  a  background  of 
magnificent  woods,  principally  oak  and  chestnut,  though 
nearer  the  house  are  a  number  of  gigantic  willows  still  flour- 
ishing in  the  strength  and  verdure  of  youth.  Concealed  in 
the  foliage  of  these  woods,  a  little  to  the  west,  is  the  small 
schoolhouse  of  stone  erected  by  Jay  for  his  children,  and  on 
the  other  side  of  the  mansion,  towards  the  northeast,  are  the 
barns,  carriage-house,  and  the  farm-house,  occupied  by  a  ten- 
ant, who  has  supervision  of  the  estate.  These  tenements  are 
almost  screened  from  view  by  a  grove  of  locust  trees,  for  which 
J  ay  showed  a  special  partiality,  and  whose  snow-white  robe  of 
blossoms  in  the  latter  -part  of  spring  affords  a  pleasing  contrast 
with  the  light  green  of  the  tasselled  chestnuts,  and  the  dark 
and  glossy  shade  of  the  oak  and  walnut  foliage  behind.  In 
front  of  the  barn,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  house,  is  the  gar- 
den, which,  though  not  making  any  pretension  to  superiority 
in  its  extent  or  its  cultivation,  displays  an  excellent  variety  of 
fruits  and  flowers,  for  the  most  part,  such  as  thrive  easily  in 
that  soil,  and  are  most  useful  and  appropriate  to  the  wants 
of  an  American  household.  Jay,  though  for  his  period  un- 
commonly versed  in  horticultural  matters,  did  not,  in  his  old- 
fashioned  simplicity,  choose  to  waste  much  time  in  transplant- 


JAY. 


221 


ing  those  contumacious  productions  of  foreign  countries  which 
"never  will  in  other  climates  grow."  Ascending  the  hill  a  eshort 
distance,  we  come  again  to  the  house,  immediately  in  front  of 
which,  without  obstructing  the  view,  stands  a  row  of  four 
handsome  lindens.  Before  the  dwelling,  which  is  nearly  half 
a  mile  from  the  main  road,  stretches  the  green  lawn  irregularly 
diversified  with  groups  of  trees,  and  beyond  is  seen  the  sightly 
ridge  of  "  Deer's  Delight,"  once  the  resort  of  the  beautiful 
animal  from  which  it  takes  its  designation ;  and  certainly  the 
choice  of  such  a  delectable  locality  would  have  done  credit  to 
creatures  far  more  reasonable.  This  spot  is  crowned,  with  the 
elegant  country-seat  of  Mr.  John  Jay,  a  grandson  of  the 
Chief  Justice,  who,  in  taking  advantage  of  its  natural  beauties, 
and  adapting  it  to  the  purposes  of  his  residence,  has  shown  a 
degree  of  taste  which  has  rarely  been  surpassed.  On  the 
western  slope,  which  is  somewhat  more  abrupt  than  the  others, 
is  the  orchard,  and  from  a  thatched  arbor  on  the  brink  of  the 
descent,  the  eye  surveys  a  large  part  of  that  circle  of  hills  in 
which  Bedford  appears  to  be  almost  inclosed.  A  most  en- 
chanting rural  landscape  is  here  spread  out,  embracing  a  wide 
extent  of  country  dotted  with  thriving  farms  and  villages, 
graceful  declivities  wandered  over  by  numerous  herds  of  cattle, 
valleys  and  pellucid  streams,  glimmering  at  intervals  from 
thick  and  overshadowing  foliage.  Further  towards  the  west 
is  the  long  line  of  hills  just  shutting  off  the  view  of  the  Hud- 
son, and  overlooked  by  the  still  loftier  range  of  the  highlands 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  conspicuous  among  which  towers 
the  Dunderberg  or  bread-tray  mountain.  From  this  spot  the 
magnificent  variations  of  sunset  are  seen  to  great  advantage. 
No  man  endowed  with  the  least  susceptibility  to  the  charm  of 


222  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

outward  nature,  can  contemplate  without  enthusiasm  the 
broad  suffusion  of  crimson  blazing  along  those  western  hills, 
gradually  passing  into  orange  and  purple,  and  finally  closing 
with  a  deep  glowing  brown,  while  the  clear  brilliant  sky  above 
pales  and  darkens  at  the  almost  imperceptible  coming  on  of 
night. 

The  interior  arrangements  of  the  house  have  not  been  es- 
sentially varied  since  the  hfetime  of  its  first  illustrious  occu- 
pant .  They  all  bear  marks  of  that  republican  simplicity  and  un- 
erring good  taste  which  were  among  his  distinguishing  charac- 
teristics. The  furniture,  though  of  the  best  materials,  was  obvi- 
ously chosen  more  for  use  than  ornament,  and  is  noticeable 
chiefly  for  an  air  of  antique  respectability  and  comfort,  which,  in 
spite  of  the  perpetually  changing  fancies  in  such  matters,  can 
never  go  out  of  fashion.  On  the  right  of  the  hall,  as  one  enters, 
is  the  dining-room,  an  apartment  of  perhaps  some  twenty  feet 
square  ;  in  this  and  in  the  parlor  opposite,  which  has  about  the 
same  dimensions,  are  several  interesting  family  portraits,  the 
works  mostly  of  Stewart  and  Trumbull,  among  which  are  those 
of  Egbert  Benson,  Judge  Hobart,  Peter  Jay,  John  Jay,  and 
Augustus  Jay,  the  first  American  ancestor  of  the  family,  the 
artist  of  which  is  unknown.  Passing  through  the  parlor,  we 
enter  the  small  room  at  the  west  end  of  the  house,  occupied 
as  a  library,  and  containing  a  well-assorted  but  not  extensive 
supply  of  books.  Here  were  the  weighty  folios  of  Grotius, 
Puffendorf,  Vattel,  and  other  masters  of  the  science  of  inter- 
national law,  besides  a  number  of  standard  theological  and 
miscellaneous  works,  with  the  classic  authors  of  antiquity, 
among  whom  Cicero  appears  to  have  been  his  special  favorite. 
In  the  library  hangs  a  portrait  of  Governor  Livingston,  the 


JAY. 


223 


father-in-law  of  Jay  ;  a  vigorous  manly  boy,  the  characteristics 
of  whose  youthful  features  have  been  retained  with  singular 
distinctness  in  those  of  his  descendants.  He  is  represented  as 
dressed  in  the  full-sleeved  coat  and  elaborate  costume  of  his 
time,  and  with  a  sword  hanging  at  his  side,  an  outfit  hardly 
in  accordance  with  so  tender  an  age.  The  oaken  press  and 
strong-bound  chest  of  cherry  wood  are  also  in  this  room,  the 
latter  the  receptacle  perhaps  of  Jay's  important  papiers  ; — 
these  ancient  heirlooms  are  presumed  to  have  crossed  the  ocean 
more  than  a  century  and  a  half  ago. 

Notwithstanding  the  infirmities  of  the  last  twenty  years 
of  his  life,  Jay  enjoyed  an  old  age  of  remarkable  tranquillity 
and  happiness.  He  set  an  example  of  undeviating  punctuality ; 
the  hour  and  the  man  always  came  together,  and  in  his  habits 
he  was  extremely  regular.  In  order  to  assist  him  in  rising  early, 
an  aperture,  shaped  like  the  crescent  moon,  was  made  in  the 
solid  oaken  shutter  of  his  apartment,  by  which  a  glimpse 
might  be  caught  of  the  first  rays  of  the  uprising  dawn.  The 
reading  of  prayers  was  succeeded  by  breakfast,  after  which  the 
greater  part  of  the  day  was  commonly  spent  in  attending  to 
the  affairs  of  his  extensive  farm.  Most  of  the  time  when 
thus  engaged,  he  rode  on  the  back  of  a  favorite  sorrel  mare, 
of  the  famous  Narraganset  breed,  now  extinct.  This  faithful 
creature  died  in  1819,  after  a  service  of  twenty-three  years. 
Two  of  the  same  stock  belonging  to  Mr.  Jay  had  died  in  suc- 
cession previously,  the  grandam  having  been  given  by  his 
father  in  1765.  It  was  probably  of  the  latter  animal  that  he 
wrote  from  Europe  in  1783,  under  the  apprehension  that  she 
might  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

"  If  my  old  mare  is  alive,  I  must  beg  of  you  and  my  bro- 


224         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

thcr  to  take  good  care  of  her.  I  mean  that  she  should  be  well 
fed  and  live  idle,  unless  my  brother  Peter  should  choose  to  use 
her.  If  it  should  be  necessary  to  advance  money  to  recover 
her,  I  am  content  you  should  do  it  even  to  the  amount  of 
double  her  value." 

At  half-past  one  came  the  dinner  hour,  after  which  he  was 
wont  to  indulge  moderately  in  smoking.  A  few  of  his  long  clay 
pipes  are  still  preserved.  They  were  imported  for  him  from 
abroad,  and  were  considered  in  their  time  an  unusually  select 
and  valuable  article.  His  evenings  were  devoted  to  reading 
and  the  company  of  his  family  and  neighbors.  Once  or  twice 
a  year,  Judge  Benson,  Peter  Jay,  Monroe,  or  some  other  old 
friend,  would  take  a  journey  to  his  hospitable  home  to  pass  a 
week  in  living  over,  in  conversation,  their  long  and  varied  ex- 
perience, and  occasionally  some  stranger  from  foreign  lands, 
attracted  by  his  wide-spread  reputation,  would  receive  at  his 
hands  a  cordial  yet  unostentatious  welcome.  Though  possessed 
of  a  large  landed  property  from  which  he  enjoyed  a  respectable 
income,  his  family  expenses  and  the  management  of  his  estate 
were  regulated  by  a  judicious  and  liberal  economy.  Kemark- 
ably  affectionate  in  his  disposition  and  solicitous  for  the  wel- 
fare of  his  children,  his  demeanor  towards  them  was  marked 
with  unvarying  equability  and  decision.  An  extract  from  a 
letter  to  Mrs.  Jay,  dated  London,  5th  Dec,  1794,  illustrates 
his  views  on  this  head  : 

"  I  hope  N  will  amuse  herself  sometimes  with  her 

spinning-wheel.  God  only  knows  what  may  one  day  be  her 
situation.  Polite  accomplishments  merit  attention,  useful 
knowledge  should  not  be  neglected.  Let  us  do  the  best  we 
can  with,  and  for  our  children,  and  commit  them  to  the  pro- 
tection and  guidance  of  Providence/' 


JAY. 


225 


By  his  servants,  his  poorer  neighbors,  and  all  who  were  in 
any  way  dependent  on  him,  he  was  reverenced  and  loved.  He 
promptly  and  liberally  responded  to  all  movements  calculated 
to  promote  the  general  good.  In  one  instance  of-  this  kind, 
he  showed  an  adroitness  in  his  beneficence  which  is  somewhat 
amusing.  The  townspeople  were  about  to  erect  a  school-house, 
and  it  was  apprehended  that  from  mistaken  considerations  of 
economy,  the  building  would  be  less  substantial  in  its  construc- 
tion than  was  desirable.  When,  therefore,  the  subscription 
list  was  presented  to  Jay,  he  put  down  a  liberal  sum  against 
his  name  "  if  of  wood,  if  of  stone,  double."  Another  example 
occurs  in  his  dealings  with  his  less  fortunate  neighbors,  evincing 
the  union  of  austere  and  inflexible  regard  for  public  justice 
with  the  most  sensitive  sympathy  with  individual  suffering, 
which  is  cited  in  Professor  Mc Vicar's  appreciative  and  eloquent 
sketch  of  Jay's  life.  The  case  referred  to  is  that  of  "  a  poor 
blacksmith  in  his  neighborhood,  who  had  encroached  with  his 
building  on  the  public  highway,  and  refused  to  recede  ;  Jay 
prosecuted  him  to  the  extreme  rigor  of  the  law,  and  having 
duly  punished  the  offender,  proceeded  to  make  it  up  tenfold 
to  the  poor  man  by  deeding  to  him  an  acre  or  two  of  ground 
from  his  own  farm,  in  order  that  his  necessities  might  be  no 
plea  for  any  further  breach  of  the  law." 

A  pleasing  reminiscence  of  Jay  has  been  told  by  the  son 
of  the  recipient  of  his  bounty,  a  poor  widow,  whose  utmost 
exertions  were  barely  sufficient  for  the  support  of  her  family. 
Some  time  after  the  Governor's  death,  she  received  a  note 
from  Mr.  William  Jay,  the  occupant  of  the  old  mansion,  re- 
questing her  to  visit  him  as  he  had  some  pleasant  news  for 
her.    In  great  perplexity  as  to  the  nature  of  the  promised 


226  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

communication,  the  good  woman  complied,  and  on  arriving  at 
the  house,  was  thus  addressed  by  that  gentleman  :  "  My 
father,  before  he  died,  requested  to  be  buried  in  the  plainest 
manner  ;  'by  so  doing/  said  he,  ' there  will  be  a  saving  of 
about  two  hundred  dollars  which  I  wish  you  to  give  to  some 
poor  widow  whom  you  and  your  sister  may  consider  most  worthy, 
and  I  wish  you  to  get  the  silver  money  and  count  it  out  now/ 
and,"  continued  Mr.  Jay,  "  my  sister  and  I  have  selected  you 
and  here  is  the  money."  The  gratitude  of  the  widow  found 
no  answer  but  in  tears  as  she  bore  away  the  treasure  to  her 
dwelling.  The  recollection  of  deeds  like  these  is  the  imper- 
ishable inheritance  which  J  ay  has  left  to  his  descendants,  and 
it  is  a  distinction  besides  which  mere  heraldic  honors  fade  into 
insignificance,  that,  from  the  beginning  to  this  day,  the  great 
name  of  Jay  has  been  inseparably  linked  with  the  cause  of 
the  neglected  and  oppressed  against  the  encroachments  of  un- 
scrupulous power. 

The  personal  appearance  of  Jay,  at  the  age  of  forty-four,  is 
thus  described  by  Mr.  Sullivan :  "He  was  a  little  less  than 
five  feet  in  height,  his  person  rather  thin  but  well  formed. 
His  complexion  was  without  color,  his  eyes  black  and  pene- 
trating, his  nose  aquiline,  and  his  chin  pointed.  His  hair 
came  over  his  forehead,  was  tied  behind  and  lightly  powdered. 
His  dress  black.  When  standing,  he  was  a  little  inclined 
forward,  as  is  not  uncommon  with  students  long  accus- 
tomed to  bend  over  a  table."  With  the  exception  of  the  mis- 
take as  to  the  color  of  his  eyes,  which  were  blue  and  not 
black,  this  is  probably  an  accurate  picture.  But  it  gives  no 
idea  of  the  blended  dignity  and  courtesy  which  were  apparent 
in  his  features  and  his  habitual  bearing,  to  a  degree,  says  a 


jay.  227 

venerable  informant,  never  witnessed  in  any  other  man  of  that 
time.  His  general  appearance  of  reserve  was  sometimes  mis- 
construed by  those  who  were  little  acquainted  with  him  into 
haughtiness.  This  was  undoubtedly  native,  in  some  measure, 
to  his  character,  but  much,  we  have  reason  to  suppose,  existed 
more  in  appearance  than  in  reality,  and  was  the  unavoidable 
expression  of  one  long  and  intensely  engaged  in  affairs  of 
great  moment, 

"  Deep  on  whose  front  engraved 
Deliberation  sat,  and  public  cares." 

Not  without  a  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  he  rarely  indulged 
in  jocose  remarks ;  yet  he  is  said,  at  times,  when  much  impor- 
tuned for  certain  information  or  opinions  which  he  did  not  care 
to  reveal,  to  have  shown  a  peculiarly  shrewd  humor  in  his  re- 
plies, which  baffled  without  irritating  the  inquirer.  Perhaps 
a  delicate  piece  of  advice  was  never  given  in  more  skilfully 
worded  and  unexceptionable  phraseology  than  in  his  answer  to 
a  confidential  letter  from  Lord  Grenville,  inquiring  as  to  the 
expediency  of  removing  Mr.  Hammond,  the  British  Minister 
at  Washington,  who,  for  some  reason  or  other,  had  become 
extremely  distasteful  to  the  government  there.  As  Mr.  Ham- 
mond was  a  personal  friend  to  Jay,  the  inquiry  was  natur- 
ally embarrassing,  but  he  still  deemed  it  his  duty  to  advise 
the  minister's  recall.  Accordingly,  in  his  reply,  after  first  de- 
claring his  friendship  for  Mr.  Hammond  and  his  entire  confi- 
dence in  that  gentleman's  ability  and  integrity,  he  refers  to 
the  unhappy  diplomatic  difficulties  of  that  gentleman,  and 
concludes  by  saying,  "  Hence  I  cannot  forbear  wishing  that 
Mr.  Hammond  had  a  better  place,  and  that  a  person  well 


228  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

adapted  to  the  existing  state  of  things  was  sent  to  succeed 
him." 

As  William  Penn  said  of  George  Fox,  Mr.  Jay  was  "civil 
beyond  all  fonns  of  breeding ; "  the  natural  refinement  and 
purity  of  Ins  disposition  were  expressed  in  his  appearance  and 
manners,  and  perhaps  we  might  apply  with  propriety  the  re- 
mainder of  Penn's  description  : — "  He  was  a  man  whom  God 
endowed  with  a  clear  and  wonderful  clejrih, — a  discoverer  of 
other  men's  spirits  and  very  much  the  master  of  his  own. 
The  reverence  and  solemnity  of  his  demeanor  and  the  fewness 
and  fulness  of  his  words  often  struck  strangers  with  admira- 
tion." In  his  character,  the  qualities  of  wisdom,  decision, 
truthfulness,  and  justice  held  a  supreme  and  unquestioned 
sway.  Under  their  direction,  he  was  often  led  into  measures 
which  seemed  at  first  to  hazard  his  own  interests,  as  when  at 
Paris  he  violated  his  congressional  instructions  for  the  benefit 
of  his  country ;  but  these  measures  were  adopted  with  such  de- 
liberation, and  pursued  with  so  unhesitating  perseverance  that 
their  results  invariably  justified  the  course  he  had  taken.  The 
three  most  important  concessions  ever  gained  by  America  from 
foreign  countries,  the  concessions  which  now  our  country  most 
values  and  would  be  least  willing  to  surrender,  namely,  the 
Navigation  of  the  Mississippi,  the  Participation  in  the  British 
Fisheries  and  the  Trade  with  the  West  Indies,  are  due  almost 
solely  to  the  foresight,  the  diplomatic  ability  and  the  firmness 
of  John  Jay.  When  we  consider  the  comparative  insensibil- 
ity of  Congress  at  that  time,  and  the  country  at  large,  to  the 
incalculable  value  of  these  rights,  we  may  feel  assured  that 
had  America  sent  abroad  an  agent  of  different  character,  the 
wily  diplomatists  of  Europe  would  have  found  little  difficulty 


JAY. 


229 


in  wresting  them  from  us.  Jay  was  moreover  a  man  of  deep 
and  fervent  piety — not  that  merely  occasional  ecstasy  of  devo- 
tional feeling,  which,  although  perfectly  sincere,  is  compatible 
with  an  habitual  violation  of  all  laws  human  and  divine,  but 
a  constant  sense  of  responsibility  to  a  Supreme  Being  for  every 
action  of  his  life,  under  which  he  labored 

"As  ever  in  the  Great  Taskmaster's  eye." 

It  was  this  combination  of  attributes,  "  inviting  confidence, 
yet  inspiring  respect/'  setting  him  apart  from  other  men,  yet 
drawing  the  multitude  after  him,  that  accounts  for  the  con- 
stantly recurring  demands  upon  his  public  services.  The  peo- 
ple felt  that  they  could  trust  a  man  whose  patriotism  was  not 
a  temporary  passion,  but  a  well-defined  and  immovable  prin- 
ciple, and  they  were  never  disappointed.  In  the  complete  har- 
mony of  his  moral  and  intellectual  qualities,  so  wholly  free 
from  the  disturbing  influence  of  painful  and  dangerous  eccen- 
tricities and  the  considerations  of  self,  he  approached  nearer 
than  any  other  statesman  of  his  age  to  the  majestic  character 
of  Washington,  and  on  no  one  of  his  illustrious  coadjutors 
did  that  great  man  place  so  uniform  and  so  unhesitating  a 
reliance. 

Jay  had  already  exceeded  the  longest  period  allotted  by 
the  psalmist  to  the  life  of  man,  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  those 
satisfactions  which  comfortable  outward  circumstances,  the  af- 
fection of  friends  and  kindred,  and  the  honor  and  reverence 
of  a  country  whose  vast  and  still  enlarging  prosperity  were 
so  much  due  to  his  exertions,  can  supply,  when  he  received  the 
unmistakable  premonitions  of  his  end.  On  the  17th  of  May, 
1828,  having  previously  summoned  the  numerous  members  of 


230  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


the  family  to  his  bedside,  and  having  bestowed  on  each  his 
parting  advice  and  benediction,  he  resigned  his  soul  to  the 
care  of  its  Maker ;  and  now;  in  the  quiet  grave-yard  at  Eye, 
near  the  spot  where  he  passed  the  early  years  of  his  life,  re- 
pose the  august  remains  of  John  Jay. 


a  m  i  1 1 0  n 


HAMILTON. 

WE  have  not  the  means  of  presenting  a  sketch  of  Hamil- 
ton's birth-place,  or  of  the  incidents  of  his  early  life 
before  he  became  a  resident  in  this  country ;  and  so  much  of 
his  subsequent  life  was  spent  in  the  camp  and  in  the  service 
of  his  country,  wherever  that  service  required  him  to  be,  that 
he  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  had  a  "Home"  until  a  few 
years  before  his  splendid  career  was  so  suddenly  and  mourn- 
fully closed. 

He  was  born  in  the  year  1756,  in  the  Island  of  St.  Nevis. 


234         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

one  of  the  British  West  Indian  possessions,  whither  his  father, 
a  native  of  Scotland,  had  gone  with  the  purpose  of  engaging 
in  mercantile  pursuits  ;  and  he  was  himself  at  the  early  age 
of  twelve,  placed  in  the  counting-house  of  an  opulent  mer- 
chant, in  one  of  the  neighboring  islands.  But  such  a  situa- 
tion was  ill  suited  to  his  disposition  ;  and  his  ambition,  even 
at  that  early  period  of  his  life,  strongly  developed,  could  not 
find  in  those  narrow  colonies  a  sufficient  field  for  its  exercise 
The  wishes  of  his  friends  favored  his  own  inclinations,  and  he 
was  sent  to  New- York,  that  he  might  avail  himself  of  the 
more  ample  facilities  for  acquiring  an  education  which  that 
place  and  its  vicinity  afforded. 

He  went  through  with  the  studies  preparatory  to  entering 
college  at  a  school  in  Elizabcthtown,  New  Jersey,  which  was 
under  the  patronage  of  Governor  Livingston  and  Mr.  Bou- 
dinot,  in  the  former  of  whose  families  he  resided.  He  soon 
qualified  himself  for  admission  to  King's  (now  Columbia)  Col- 
lege, and  was  then  permitted  to  pursue  a  course  of  study 
which  he  had  marked  out  for  himself,  without  becoming  a 
member  of  any  particular  class.  At  this  early  period  he  evinc- 
ed those  traits  of  character  which  afterwards  conducted  him 
to  such  high  distinction,  and  which  marked  his  career  through- 
out. He  brought  to  his  tasks  not  only  that  diligence  which  is 
often  exhibited  by  more  ordinary  minds,  but  that  enthusiastic 
devotion  of  the  soul,  which  was  perhaps  the  most  marked  trait 
of  his  character. 

It  was  while  he  was  yet  in  college,  that  the  disputes  be- 
tween the  colonies  and  the  mother  country,  just  preliminary 
to  the  breaking  out  of  hostilities,  arose  ;  but  they  even  then  en- 
gaged his  earnest  attention.    It  is  probable  that  the  tendency 


HAMILTON. 


235 


of  his  mind  at  that  time,  as  in  the  later  period  of  his  life,  was 
towards  conservative  views ;  and  indeed,  he  has  himself  said 
"  that  he  had,  at  first,  entertained  strong  prejudices  on  the 
ministerial  side."  But  a  mind  so  investigating  and  a  spirit 
so  generous  as  his  would  not  be  likely  to  entertain  such  preju- 
dices long ;  and  having  made  a  visit  to  Boston  and  become 
excited  by  the  tone  of  public  feeling  in  that  city,  he  directed 
his  attention  to  the  real  merits  of  the  controversy,  and  this, 
aided  perhaps  by  the  natural  order  of  his  temperament,  pro- 
duced in  him  a  thorough  conviction  of  the  justice  of  the  Ameri- 
can cause.  With  his  characteristic  earnestness,  he  threw  him- 
self at  once  into  the  contest,  and  while  but  eighteen  years  of 
age  he  addressed  a  public  meeting  upon  the  subject  of  the 
wrongs  inflicted  by  the  mother  country,  and  acquitted  himself 
in  a  manner  which  amazed  and  delighted  his  hearers,  and  drew 
to  him  the  public  attention. 

A  meeting  of  the  citizens  of  New- York  had  been  called  to 
consider  upon  the  choice  of  delegates  to  the  first  Congress. 
A  large  concourse  of  people  assembled,  and  the  occasion  was 
long  remembered  as  "the  great  meeting  in  the  fields."  Ham- 
ilton was  then,  of  course,  comparatively  unknown,  but  some 
of  his  neighbors  having  occasion  to  remark  his  contemplative 
habits  and  the  vigor  and  maturity  of  his  thoughts,  urged  him 
to  address  the  multitude,  and  after  some  hesitation  he  con- 
sented. 

"The  novelty  of  the  attempt,  his  slender  and  diminutive 
form,  awakened  curiosity  and  arrested  attention.  Overawed 
by  the  scene  before  him,  he  at  first  hesitated  and  faltered,  but 
as  he  proceeded  almost  unconsciously  to  utter  his  accustomed 
reflections,  his  mind  warmed  with  the  theme,  his  energies 


236         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

were  recovered ;  and  after  a  discussion,  clear,  cogent,  and  novel, 
of  the  great  principles  involved  in  the  controversy,  he  depicted 
in  glowing  colors  the  long  continued  and  long  endured  oppres- 
sions of  the  mother  country.  He  insisted  on  the  duty  of  re- 
sistance, pointed  out  the  means  and  certainty  of  success,  and 
described  the  waves  of  rebellion  sparkling  with  fire  and  wash- 
ing back  upon  the  shores  of  England  the  wrecks  of  her  power, 
her  wealth,  and  her  glory.  The  breathless  silence  ceased  as 
he  closed,  and  the  whispered  murmur — c  it  is  a  collegian,  it  is 
a  collegian/  was  lost  in  expressions  of  wonder  and  applause 
at  the  extraordinary  eloquence  of  the  young  stranger." * 

About  the  same  time  he  published  anonymously  two 
pamphlets  in  reply  to  publications  emanating  from  the 
ministerial  party,  and  in  vindication  of  the  measures  of  the 
American  Congress.  The  powerful  and  eloquent  manner  in 
which  the  topics  in  controversy  were  discussed,  excited  great 
attention.  The  authorship  of  the  pamphlets  was  attributed 
by  some  to  Governor  Livingston  and  by  others  to  John  Jay, 
and  these  contributed  to  give  to  those  gentlemen,  already  dis- 
tinguished, an  increased  celebrity ;  and  when  it  was  ascertained 
that  the  youthful  Hamilton  was  the  author  of  them,  the  pub- 
lic could  scarcely  credit  the  fact. 

Upon  the  actual  breaking  out  of  hostilities,  Hamilton  im- 
mediately applied  himself  to  the  study  of  military  science,  and 
obtained  from  the  State  of  New- York  a  commission  as  captain 
of  a  company  of  artillery.  His  conduct  at  once  attracted  the 
observing  eye  of  Washington,  who  soon  invited  him  to  become 
one  of  Ins  staff  with  the  commission  of  Lieutenant  Colonel. 


*  Life  of  Hamilton,  by  his  son,  John  C.  Hamilton,  Vol.  I.  p.  22. 


HAMILTON. 


237 


Hamilton  accepted  the  offer,  and  for  the  space  of  four  years 
remained  in  the  family  of  Washington,  enjoying  his  unlimited 
confidence,  carrying  on  a  large  portion  of  his  correspondence, 
and  aiding  him  in  the  conduct  of  the  most  important  affairs. 
A  hasty  word  from  the  latter  led  to  a  rupture  of  this  connec- 
tion, and  Hamilton  left  the  staff  and  resumed  his  place  as  an 
officer  in  the  line  ;  but  Washington's  confidence  in  him  was 
not  in  the  least  impaired,  and  their  friendship  continued  warm 
and  sincere  until  the  death  of  the  latter. 

In  thus  separating  himself  from  the  family  of  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, Hamilton  was  influenced  by  other  motives 
than  displeasure  at  the  conduct  of  Washington.    He  knew 
that  great  man  too  well,  and  loved  him  too  well,  to  allow  a 
hasty  word  of  rebuke  to  break  up  an  attachment  which  had 
begun  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  and  which  a  familiar  in- 
tercourse of  four  years,  an  ardent  love  of  the  cause,  and  a  de- 
votion to  it  common  to  them  both  had  deepened  and  confirmed. 
But  the  duties  of  a  secretary  and  adviser,  important  as  they 
then  were,  were  not  adequate  to  call  forth  all  his  various 
powers,  and  the  performance  of  them,  however  skilful,  was  not 
sufficient  to  satisfy  that  love  of  glory  which  he  so  fondly  cher- 
ished.   He  was  born  to  act  in  whatever  situation  he  might 
be  placed  a  first  rate  part.    He  longed  to  distinguish  himself 
in  the  battles  as  well  as  in  the  councils  of  the  war.    He  felt 
that  his  country  had  need  of  his  arm  as  well  as  of  his  pen  ; 
and  thus  the  dictates  of  patriotism,  which  he  never  in  the 
course  of  his  life  allowed  to  stand  separate  from  the  prompt- 
ings of  his  high  ambition,  pointed  out  to  him  the  course  he 
took.    He  would  not,  of  his  own  motion,  leave  the  immediate 
services  of  Washington  ;  but  when  the  opportunity  was  pre- 


238  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

sented  by  the  latter,  he  at  once  embraced  it,  and  would  not  be 
persuaded  by  any  considerations  to  return  to  his  former  place. 

A  short  time  previous  to  his  leaving  the  family  of  Wash- 
ington he  had  formed  an  engagement  with  the  second  daugh- 
ter of  Gen.  Philip  Schuyler,  of  New- York,  to  whom  he  was 
married  on  the  14th  of  December,  1780,  at  the  residence  of 
her  father  at  Albany,  and  thus  became  permanently  establish- 
ed in  New- York.  His  union  with  this  lady  was  one  of  unbro- 
ken happiness,  and  at  a  venerable  age  she  still  survives  him. 

His  rank  in  the  army  was  soon  after  advanced,  and  an  op- 
portunity for  exhibiting  his  military  skill  and  prowess,  which 
he  had  so  ardently  wished  for,  was  shortly  presented.  The 
falling  fortunes  of  the  British  army  in  the  south,  under  Lord 
Cornwallis,  invited  an  attack  in  that  quarter.  The  combined 
French  and  American  forces  were  fast  closing  up  every  avenue 
of  retreat,  and  the  British  commander  finding  that  to  avoid  a 
general  engagement  was  impossible,  at  last  intrenched  himself 
at  Yorktown  with  the  determination  of  making  a  final  stand 
against  the  victorious  progress  of  the  American  arms.  In 
the  decisive  battle  which  succeeded,  Hamilton  signalized 
himself  by  a  most  brilliant  achievement.  Two  redoubts  in 
the  fortifications  of  the  enemy  were  to  be  carried  in  face  of  a 
most  destructive  fire.  The  attack  upon  one  of  them  was  as- 
signed to  a  detachment  of  the  French  troops,  and  that 
upon  the  other  to  a  division  of  the  American  forces.  The 
command  of  the  latter,  at  his  earnest  request,  was  given  to 
Hamilton.  At  the  appointed  signal  he  "  gave  the  order  to  ad- 
vance at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  pushed  forward,  and  before 
the  rest  of  the  corps  had  ascended  the  abatis,  mounted  over  it, 
stood  for  a  moment  on  the  parapet  with  three  of  his  soldiers, 


HAMILTON. 


239 


encouraging  the  others  to  follow,  and  sprung  into  the  ditch. 
The  American  infantry,  animated  by  the  address  and  example 
of  their  leader,  pressed  on  with  muskets  unloaded  and  fixed 
bayonets.  They  soon  reached  the  counterscarp  under  a  heavy 
and  constant  fire  from  the  redoubt,  and,  surmounting  the  abatis, 
ditch,  and  palisades,  mounted  the  parapet  and  leaped  into  the 
work.  Hamilton,  who  had  pressed  forward,  followed  by  the 
rear- guard  under  Mansfield,  was  for  a  time  lost  sight  of,  and  it 
was  feared  he  had  fallen  ;  but  he  soon  reappeared,  formed  the 
troops  in  the  redoubt,  and  as  soon  as  it  surrendered  gave  the 
command  to  Major  Fish. 

"  The  impetuosity  of  the  attack  carried  all  before  it,  and 
within  nine  minutes  from  the  time  the  abatis  was  passed  the 
work  was  gained/'  *  This  brilliant  exploit  received  the  deci- 
sive commendation  of  Washington.  "  Few  cases,"  said  he, 
"have  exhibited  greater  proofs  of  intrepidity,  coolness,  and  firm- 
ness than  were  shown  on  this  occasion." 

The  battle  of  Yorktown  decided  the  event  of  the  war  of 
the  Kevolution.  The  profession  of  a  soldier  could  no  longer 
give  sufficient  scope  to  the  restless  activity  of  Hamilton  ;  al- 
though then  occupying  a  distinguished  place  among  the  most 
illustrious  of  his  countrymen,  and  yielding,  though  not  with- 
out regret,  his  arms  for  the  toga,  he  selected  for  his  future 
employment  the  profession  of  the  law — a  pursuit  for  which  his 
general  studies  and  the  character  of  his  mind,  as  well  as  his 
inclination,  eminently  fitted  him. 

From  the  period  of  his  admission  to  the  bar  until  the  as- 
sembling of  the  convention  which  framed  the  constitution  un- 


*  Life  of  Hamilton,  Vol.  1  p.  382. 


240         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

der  which  we  now  live,  his  time  and  labors  were  divided  be- 
tween the  practice  of  his  profession  and  the  service  of  the  pub- 
lic in  various  capacities.  Of  the  convention  he  was  chosen  a 
member,  and  he  brought  to  the  performance  of  his  duties  in 
that  body  the  purest  patriotism,  and  abilities  unsurpassed,  if 
indeed  equalled,  in  that  assembly  of  illustrious  men.  He  took 
from  the  outset  a  most  conspicuous  part  in  its  deliberations, 
throwing  upon  every  important  subject  which  was  discussed,  the 
blended  lights  of  his  genius,  experience,  and  learning.  As  the 
sessions  of  the  convention  were  held  in  secret,  we  have  but  an 
imperfect  knowledge  of  its  proceedings  ;  and  the  meagre  and 
fragmentary  reports  which  we  possess  of  the  speeches  which 
were  delivered  in  it  give  us  a  very  inadequate  notion  of  the 
masterly  efforts  of  Hamilton.  But  the  testimony  of  his  asso- 
ciates in  the  convention,  and  the  imperfect  records  we  have  of 
its  deliberations,  join  in  ascribing  to  him  a  foremost  place ;  and 
an  impartial  student  of  our  constitution  and  history,  himself 
a  profound  statesman  and  philosopher,  M.  Guizot,  has  said 
that  there  is  in  our  political  system  scarcely  an  element  of 
order  and  durability  for  which  we  are  not  in  a  great  measure 
indebted  to  the  genius  of  Hamilton.  Indeed  he  was  the  very 
first  to  point  out  the  radical  defects  in  the  old  confederation, 
and  the  absolute  necessity  of  a  government  based  upon  a  dif- 
ferent foundation,  and  invested  with  more  ample  powers.  The 
restoration  of  the  public  credit,  the  creation  of  a  currency,  the 
promotion  of  commerce,  the  preservation  of  the  public  faith 
with  foreign  countries,  the  general  tranquillity — these  were 
topics  which  he  had  discussed  in  all  their  relations  long  be- 
fore the  meeting  of  the  convention,  and  he  had  early  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  these  great  ends  were  to  be  reached  in 


HAMILTON. 


241 


no  other  way  than  by  the  establishment  of  a  National  Gov- 
ernment, emanating  directly  from  the  people  at  large,  sove- 
reign in  its  own  sphere,  and  responsible  to  the  people  alone  for 
the  manner  in  which  its  powers  were  executed.  In  the  Con- 
stitution, when  it  was  presented  for  adoption,  Hamilton  saw 
some  objectionable  features.  These  he  had  opposed  in  the 
convention  ;  but  finding  that  such  opposition  was  likely  to 
throw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  any  final  agreement,  and  reor- 
ganizing in  the  instrument  proposed  to  be  adopted  the  essen- 
tial features  of  his  own  plan,  and  wisely  regarding  it  as  the 
best  scheme  that  could  unite  the  varying  opinions  of  men,  he 
patriotically  withdrew  his  opposition  and  gave  it  his  hearty  as- 
sent. 

Hamilton  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  convention  which 
met  at  Poughkeepsie  to  consider  the  question  of  ratifying  it, 
and  he  urged  the  adoption  of  it  in  a  series  of  masterly  speeches, 
which  powerfully  contributed  to  its  final  ratification.  At  the 
same  time,  in  conjunction  with  Madison  and  Jay,  he  was  en- 
gaged in  the  composition  of  those  immortal  papers,  which,  un- 
der the  name  of  the  "Federalist,"  exercised  at  the  time  such  a 
potent  influence,  and  which  have  even  since  been  received  as 
authoritative  commentaries  upon  the  instrument,  the  wisdom 
and  expediency  of  which  they  so  eloquently  and  successfully 
vindicated.  In  view  of  the  extraordinary  exertions  of  Hamil- 
ton in  behalf  of  the  Constitution,  both  with  his  tongue  and 
pen,  and  of  the  fact  that  if  New- York  had  rejected  it,  it  would 
probably  have  failed  to  receive  the  sanction  of  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  States,  we  think  that  it  may  without  injustice  to  others 
be  said,  that  for  the  ratification  of  our  Constitution  we  are 


242         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

more  indebted  to  the  labors  of  Hamilton  than  to  those  of  any 
other  single  man. 

When  the  new  government  went  into  operation  with  Wash- 
ington at  its  head,  Hamilton  was  called  to  fill  what  was  then 
the  most  important  place  in  the  cabinet,  that  of  Secretary  of 
the  Treasury.  He  then  addressed  himself  to  the  task  of  car- 
rying out  the  great  purpose  for  which  the  Constitution  was 
adopted — a  task,  the  successful  accomplishment  of  which  rested 
more  in  the  skilful  administration  of  the  Treasury  depart- 
ment than  that  of  any  office  under  government ;  for  upon  this 
hung  the  great  issues  of  the  currency  and  the  jDublic  credit. 
With  what  ability  he  executed  his  great  trust  in  the  face  of  a 
powerful  and  most  virulent  opposition,  the  event  has  fully 
shown.  The  system  of  finance  which  he  concocted  and  ap- 
plied has  been  adhered  to  without  substantial  change  through- 
out the  subsequent  history  of  the  government,  and  well  justi- 
fies the  magnificent  eulogy  which  Webster  has  bestowed  upon 
its  author.  "  He  smote  the  rock  of  the  national  resources,  and 
abundant  streams  of  revenue  gushed  forth.  He  touched  the 
dead  corpse  of  the  Public  Credit,  and  it  sprung  upon  its  feet. 
The  fabled  birth  of  Minerva  from  the  brain  of  Jove  was 
hardly  more  sudden  or  more  perfect  than  the  financial  system 
of  the  United  States,  as  it  burst  forth  from  the  conceptions  of 
Alexander  Hamilton." * 

From  the  Treasury  department  he  returned  to  the  prac- 
tice of  his  profession,  and  the  calmer  walks  of  private  life ;  but 
his  love  for  his  country  and  the  anxiety  he  felt  for  her  welfare 
would  not  permit  him  to  relinquish  the  prominent  place  he 


*  Works  of  Daniel  Webster,  Vol.  I,  p.  200. 


Residence  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  near  Manhattanville,  N.  Y 


HAMILTON. 


243 


held  as  the  leader  of  the  Federal  party.  He  regarded  with 
great  distrust  and  apprehension  the  principles  and  the  prac- 
tices of  the  rapidly  increasing  Democratic  party.  Many  of 
its  leaders  he  believed  to  be  destitute  of  principle,  and  he 
spared  no  exertions  in  opposing  them,  and  in  endeavoring  to 
stay  the  progress  of  radical  opinions,  and  to  infuse  a  spirit  of 
moderation  and  wisdom  into  the  politics  of  the  nation. 

He  was  now  in  the  prime  of  life.  A  practice  in  his  profes- 
sion at  that  time  without  parallel  in  extent  and  importance, 
afforded  him  an  abundant  income,  and  held  out  a  prospect  of 
a  competent  fortune.  He  therefore  retired  from  the  city,  pur- 
chased a  beautiful  spot  in  the  upper  part  of  the  island  of  New- 
York,  and  there  built  the  tasteful  residence  of  which  an  engrav- 
ing is  prefixed  to  this  sketch,  and  which  of  the  many  places 
where  he  resided  may  most  appropriately  be  called  his  "Home." 
It  is,  we  believe,  the  only  house  in  New- York,  in  which  he  lived, 
that  is  now  standing.  Of  the  one  in  the  island  of  St.  Nevis, 
in  which  he  was  born,  we  have  never  seen  any  representation 
or  description.  During  a  small  portion  of  his  college  life,  he 
resided  with  Mr.  Hercules  Mulligan  in  Water-street ;  but  the 
house  was  long  since  torn  down. 

After  the  close  of  the  war,  and  during  the  first  years  of 
his  practice  at  the  bar,  Hamilton  occupied  a  house  in  Wall- 
street,  nearly  opposite  the  "  Federal  Hall,"  the  site  of  the  pre- 
sent Custom  House.  It  was  on  the  outer  balcony  of  Federal 
Hall  that  Washington  took  the  oath  of  inauguration  upon  his 
first  election,  and  Hamilton,  with  a  party  of  his  friends,  wit- 
nessed that  imposing  ceremony  from  the  balcony  of  his  own 
house.  This  building  has,  with  most  others  of  its  time,  been 
taken  down,  and  a  new  one  erected  in  its  place  to  accommodate 


244         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

that  mighty  march  of  commercial  enterprise  which  is  fast 
sweeping  away  the  last  vestiges  which  mark  the  dwelling-places 
of  the  last  generation. 

The  spot  which  Hamilton  selected  for  his  "  Home,"  and 
to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  "  Grange/'  from  that  of  the 
residence  of  his  grandfather  in  Ayrshire,  Scotland,  was  chosen 
with  taste  and  judgment,  both  on  account  of  its  natural 
beauty,  and  the  interesting  and  inspiring  recollections  which 
its  vicinity  suggested.  It  was,  at  that  time,  completely  in  the 
country,  without  an  object  to  remind  one  of  the  neighborhood 
of  the  town ;  and  even  now  the  population  of  the  city,  so  pro- 
digiously expanded,  has  not  much  encroached  upon  its  original 
limits.  It  is  situated  upon  the  old  King's  Bridge  road,  about 
eight  miles  from  the  heart  of  the  city,  and  something  less  than 
a  mile  above  the  ancient  village  of  Manhattan,  and  is  about 
midway  between  the  Hudson  Kiver  on  the  one  side  and  the 
Harlem  on  the  other.  The  west  side,  which  lies  on  the  King's 
Bridge  road,  is  adorned  by  a  fine  growth  of  large  shade  trees. 
From  these  it  extends  with  gentle  undulations  to  a  declivity, 
at  the  base  of  which  lie  the  Harlem  commons.  The  grounds 
are  simply  but  tastefully  laid  out,  chiefly  with  a  view  to  take 
advantage  of  and  display  the  natural  features  of  the  place. 
The  house  is  situated  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  grounds,  and 
is  reached  by  a  gently-winding  carriage-way.  The  stable  is 
placed  in  the  rear  of  the  house  and  at  a  distance  from  it,  and 
is  concealed  by  a  thick  growth  of  trees.  A  gravelled  walk 
winds  among  the  shade  trees  along  the  road,  and  thence  across 
the  grounds  and  along  the  other  side.  The  space  in  front 
and  on  the  left  of  the  house  is  laid  out  in  a  fine  lawn,  in 
which  the  uneven  surface  of  the  ground  is  preserved,  dotted 


HAMILTON. 


245 


here  and  there  with  fine  trees,  the  natural  growth  of  the  spot. 
Near  the  house  and  on  the  left  are  thirteen  flourishing  gum 
trees,  said  to  have  been  left  by  Hamilton  himself  when  clearing 
the  spot,  as  an  emblem  of  the  thirteen  original  States. 

The  house  itself  is  in  form  nearly  square,  of  moderate  size 
and  well  proportioned.  The  front  is  on  the  southern  side  ;  it 
is  two  stories  in  height,  exclusive  of  the  basement,  and  would 
have  been  at  the  time  it  was  built  a  handsome  and  expensive 
one.  The  basement  is  used  for  culinary  purposes,  and  the  first 
story,  which  contains  the  parlors,  is  reached  by  a  short  flight 
of  steps.  You  enter  a  commodious  hall  of  a  pentagonal  form. 
On  either  side  is  a  small  apartment,  of  which  the  one  on  the 
right  was  the  study,  and  contained  the  library  of  Hamilton. 
At  the  end  of  the  hall  are  the  doors,  one  on  the  right  and 
the  other  on  the  left,  which  open  into  the  parlors.  These  are 
of  moderate  size  and  connected  by  doors,  by  opening  which 
they  are  thrown  into  one  large  room.  The  one  on  the  right 
as  you  enter  the  house,  is  now,  and  probably  was  when  Ham- 
ilton occupied  it,  used  as  a  dining-room.  The  other  parlor  is 
furnished  for  the  drawing-room.  It  is  an  octagon  in  form, 
of  wliich  three  sides  are  occupied  by  doors,  leading  to  the  hall 
in  front,  the  dining-room,  and  to  a  hall  in  the  rear.  In  two 
of  the  opposite  sides  are  windows  reaching  to  the  floor,  and 
opening  upon  the  lawn  on  the  easterly  side  of  the  house.  The 
three  doors  before  mentioned  are  faced  with  mirrors,  and 
being  directly  opposite  the  windows,  they  throw  back  the  de- 
lightful landscape  which  appears  through  the  latter  with  a 
pleasing  effect.  The  story  above  is  commodious,  and  divided 
into  the  usual  apartments.  On  the  north  the  prospect  is  in- 
terrupted by  higher  ground,  and  on  the  south  by  trees.  On 


246         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

the  west  a  view  is  caught  of  the  beautiful  shore  of  New 
Jersey,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Hudson.  From  the  east- 
ern side,  and  especially  from  the  balcony  which  extends  in 
front  of  the  windows  of  the  drawing-room,  a  magnificent  pros- 
pect is  presented.  The  elevation  being  some  two  hundred  feet 
above  the  surrounding  waters,  a  complete  view  of  the  lower 
lands  and  of  the  country  in  the  distance  is  commanded. 
Harlem  with  its  river,  the  East  River  and  Long  Island  Sound 
now  dotted  with  a  thousand  sails,  the  fertile  county  of  West- 
chester, and  Long  Island  stretching  away  to  the  horizon,  with 
its  lovely  and  diversified  scenery,  are  all  in  full  view. 

This  spot  has,  and  probably  had  for  Hamilton,  its  attrac- 
tions in  another  respect.  In  its  immediate  neighborhood 
were  the  scenes  of  some  of  the  memorable  and  interesting 
events  of  the  Eevolution.  He  had  passed  directly  over  it  with 
the  American  army  in  its  retreat  from  New- York,  after  the 
disastrous  battle  of  Long  Island.  Within  a  short  distance 
from  it  are  the  Harlem  Heights,  where  by  his  bravery  and  ad- 
dress, while  yet  but  a  boy,  he  had  attracted  the  eye  of  Wash- 
ington, and  enjoyed  his  first  interview  with  him.  A  little  fur- 
ther towards  the  north  is  Fort  Washington,  in  which  the 
continental  army  made  its  last  stand  upon  the  island,  and  the 
loss  of  which  sealed  the  fate  of  New- York  for  the  war.  It 
was  this  fort  which,  in  the  ardor  of  his  youthful  enthusiasm 
and  burning  with  chagrin  at  its  capture,  he  promised  Wash- 
ington he  would  retake,  if  he  would  place  a  small  and  select 
detachment  under  his  command — an  enterprise  which  the 
Commander-in-Chief  thought  too  hazardous.  Just  across  the 
river  on  the  Jersey  side  is  Fort  Lee,  which  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy  soon  after  the  capture  of  Fort  Washington  ; 


HAMILTON. 


247 


and  a  short  distance  above,  in  the  King's  Bridge  road,  is  the 
house  which  after  the  death  of  Hamilton  became  the  resi- 
dence of  his  bitter  and  fatal  antagonist,  Aaron  Burr. 

When  he  had  fixed  his  residence  in  this  beautiful  and  at- 
tractive spot  he  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  in  excellent  health, 
and  in  prosperous  circumstances.  He  had  been  most  fortunate 
in  his  domestic  relations,  and  had  around  him  a  happy  family 
to  which  he  was  fondly  devoted.  His  unrivalled  natural 
powers  had  been  exercised  and  improved  by  a  training  of 
thirty  years  in  the  camp,  the  forum,  the  senate  and  the  cab- 
inet. He  was  almost  worshipped  by  his  friends  and  his  party, 
and  regarded  by  all  as  one  of  the  very  pillars  of  the  State. 
Every  thing  in  his  situation  and  circumstances  seemed  auspi- 
cious of  a  still  long  career  of  happiness  and  honor  to  himself, 
of  usefulness  and  honor  to  his  country.  But  in  the  midst 
of  all  this,  he  was  suddenly  cut  off  by  the  melancholy  and 
fatal  duel  with  Col.  Burr. 

The  public  and  private  character  of  Burr,  Hamilton  had 
long  known  and  despised.  He  regarded  him  as  a  dangerous 
man,  and  one  wholly  unfit  to  fill  any  office  of  trust  or  emolu- 
ment. And  this  opinion,  although  avoiding  open  controversy 
with  Burr  himself,  he  had  not  scrupled  to  express  privately  to 
his  own  political  friends,  for  the  purpose  of  dissuading  them 
from  giving  any  support  to  one  so  little  to  be  depended  on. 
He  recognized  himself  no  other  claim  to  political  distinction 
than  honesty  of  purpose,  the  ability  and  the  will  to  serve  the 
country,  united  with  what  he  deemed  to  be  sound  political 
principles,  neither  of  which  recommendations  could  he  dis- 
cover in  Aaron  Burr. 

Burr  had,  on  the  other  hand,  few  ends  in  life  save  his  own 


248         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

advancement,  and  he  scrupled  at  no  means  by  which  this  object 
might  be  compassed  ;  but  in  his  most  deeply  laid  schemes,  he 
saw  that  the  vigilant  eye  of  Hamilton  was  upon  him,  and 
after  his  defeat  in  1804  as  a  candidate  for  governor  of  the 
State  of  New- York,  stung  with  mortification  at  his  overthrow, 
and  justly  deeming  the  influence  of  Hamilton  as  one  of  the 
most  potent  causes  of  it,  he  resolved  to  fix  a  quarrel  upon 
him.  Seizing  upon  an  expression  which  was  contained  in  a 
letter,  published  during  the  recent  political  contest,  but  which 
had  been  forgotten  by  every  one  save  himself,  he  dragged  it 
before  Hamilton's  attention,  tortured  it  into  an  imputation 
upon  his  personal  honor,  demanded  of  Hamilton  an  explana- 
tion which  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  give,  and  made  his 
refusal  the  pretext  for  a  peremptory  challenge. 

In  accepting  the  challenge  of  Burr,  Hamilton  was  but 
little  under  the  influence  of  those  motives  which  are  common- 
ly uppermost  in  such  contests.  To  the  practice  of  duelling 
he  was  sincerely  and  upon  principle  opposed,  and  had  fre- 
quently borne  his  testimony  against  it.  His  reputation  for 
personal  courage  had  been  too  often  tried,  and  too  signally 
proved  to  be  again  put  at  risk.  His  passions,  though  strong, 
were  under  his  control,  and  that  sensitiveness  on  the  score  of 
personal  honor,  which  a  man  of  spirit  naturally  cherishes, 
and  which  the  habits  of  a  military  life  rendered  prompt  and 
delicate,  was  in  him  satisfied  by  a  conscious  integrity  of  pur- 
pose. His  disposition  was  forgiving  and  gentle  to  a  fault,  and 
made  it  impossible  for  him  to  feel  any  personal  ill  will  even 
towards  such  a  man  as  Burr.  The  manifold  obligations  which 
as  an  honest  and  conscientious  man  he  was  bound  to  regard 
— his  duties  to  a  loved  and  dependent  family,  and  his  country, 


HAMILTON. 


249 


which  held  almost  an  equal  place  in  his  affections,  united  to 
dissuade  him  from  meeting  his  adversary.  And  yet  these  lat- 
ter, viewed  in  connection  with  his  peculiar  position,  with  popu- 
lar prejudices,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  times,  were  what 
impelled  him  to  his  fatal  resolution.  His  theoretic  doubts  re- 
specting a  republican  form  of  government,  while  they  did  not 
in  the  least  diminish  his  preference  for  our  jDolitical  system, 
yet  made  him  painfully  anxious  in  regard  to  its  success.  He 
thought  that  every  thing  depended  upon  keeping  the  popular 
mind  free  from  the  corruption  of  false  principles,  and  the 
offices  of  trust  and  honor  out  of  the  hands  of  bad  men.  To 
these  ends  he  had  been,  and  still  was,  employing  all  his  energy 
and  influence.  He  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  losing  or 
weakening  by  any  step,  however  justifiable  in  itself,  that  influ- 
ence which  he  had  reason  to  think  was  not  exerted  in  vain. 
These  were  the  large  and  unselfish  considerations  which  gov- 
erned him  ;  and  though  a  cool  observer  removed  from  the  ex- 
citement and  perplexities  of  the  time  may  pronounce  them 
mistaken,  still  if  impartial  he  must  regard  them  as  sincere. 
They  were  what  Hamilton  himself,  in  full  view  of  the  solem- 
nity of  the  step  he  was  about  to  take,  and  of  the  possible 
event  of  it,  declared  to  be  his  motive.  "  The  ability,"  said  he 
in  the  last  paper  he  ever  wrote,  "  to  be  in  future  useful,  whe- 
ther in  resisting  mischief  or  effecting  good  in  those  crises  of 
our  public  affairs  which  seem  likely  to  happen,  would  proba- 
bly be  inseparable  from  a  conformity  with  prejudice  in  this 
particular." 

After  some  fruitless  endeavors  on  the  part  of  Hamilton  to 
convince  Burr  of  the  unreasonableness  of  the  request  which 
the  latter  had  made,  all  explanations  were  closed,  and  the 


250         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

preliminaries  for  the  meeting  were  arranged.  Hamilton  bav- 
ins: no  wish  to  take  the  life  of  Burr,  had  come  to  the  deter- 
mination  to  throw  away  his  first  shot, — a  course  too  which 
approved  itself  to  his  feelings  for  other  reasons. 

The  grounds  of  Weehawk,  on  the  Jersey  shore  opposite 
New- York,  were  at  that  time  the  usual  field  of  these  single 
combats,  then  chiefly  by  the  inflamed  state  of  political  feel- 
ing of  frequent  occurrence,  and  very  seldom  ending  without 
bloodshed.  The  day  having  been  fixed,  and  the  horn  appoint- 
ed at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  parties  met,  accompa- 
nied only  by  their  servants.  The  bargemen,  as  well  as  Dr. 
Hosack,  the  surgeon  mutually  agreed  upon,  remained  as  usual 
at  a  distance,  in  order,  if  any  fatal  result  should  occur,  not  to 
be  witnesses.  The  parties  having  exchanged  salutations,  the 
seconds  measured  the  distance  of  ten  paces,  loaded  the  pistols, 
made  the  other  preliminary  arrangements,  and  placed  the 
comba  tants.  At  the  appointed  signal,  Burr  took  deliberate  aim 
and  fired.  The  ball  entered  Hamilton's  side,  and  as  he  fell, 
his  pistol  too  was  unconsciously  discharged.  Burr  approached 
him,  apparently  somewhat  moved,  but  on  the  suggestion  of  his 
second,  the  surgeon  and  bargemen  already  approaching,  he 
turned  and  hastened  away,  Van  Ness  coolly  covering  him 
from  their  sight  by  opening  an  umbrella.  The  surgeon  found 
Hamilton  half  lying,  half  sitting  on  the  ground,  supported  in 
the  arms  of  his  second.  The  pallor  of  death  was  on  his  face. 
"  Doctor,"  he  said,  this  is  a  mortal  wound  ;  "  and,  as  if  over- 
come by  the  effort  of  speaking,  he  swooned  quite  away.  As 
he  was  carried  across  the  river  the  fresh  breeze  revived  him. 
His  own  house  being  in  the  country,  he  was  conveyed  at  once 
to  the  house  of  a  friend,  where  he  lingered  for  twenty-four 


HAMILTON. 


251 


hours  in  great  agony,  but  preserving  his  composure  and  self- 
command  to  the  last.""" 

The  melancholy  event  of  the  duel  affected  the  whole  coun- 
try, and  New- York  in  particular,  with  the  deepest  indignation 
and  grief.  The  avenues  to  the  house  where  Hamilton  was 
carried  before  he  expired,  were  thronged  with  anxious  citizens. 
His  funeral  was  celebrated  by  a  mournful  pageant,  and  an 
oration  in  Trinity  Church  by  Governeur  Morris,  which  stirred 
up  the  people  like  the  speech  of  Antony  over  the  corpse  of 
Caesar,  to  a  "  sudden  flood  of  mutiny."  Burr,  with  an  indict- 
ment for  murder  hanging  over  him,  fled  secretly  from  the  city 
to  the  South,  where  he  remained  until  the  excitement  had  in 
a  measure  subsided.  His  wretched  end,  and  the  place  which 
history  has  assigned  to  him,  leave  room  at  present  for  no  other 
emotions  save  those  of  regret  and  pity.  In  the  deep  gloom 
which  the  death  of  Hamilton  occasioned,  his  political  oppo- 
nents almost  equally  shared.  In  contemplating  his  character 
they  seemed  to  catch  some  portion  of  his  own  magnanimity, 
and  the  animosities  of  which  he  had  been  so  conspicuous  an 
object,  were  swallowed  up  in  the  conviction  that  a  great  and 
irreparable  loss  had  fallen  equally  upon  all. 

There  was  not,  we  think,  at  that  time,  a  life  which  might 
not  have  been  better  spared  than  that  of  Hamilton.  Certain- 
ly no  man  represented  so  well  as  he,  the  character  and  the 
principles  of  Washington  ;  and  no  man  was  gifted  with  an 
array  of  qualities  which  better  fitted  him  either  as  a  magistrate 
or  a  man  to  control  aright  the  opinions  and  the  actions  of  a 
people  like  that  of  the  United  States.  He  was  a  man  "  built 
up  on  every  side."   He  had  received  from  nature  a  most  capa- 

*  Hildreth's  History  of  the  United  States.    Ne\v  Series,  vol.  ii.  p.  524. 


252         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

cious  and  admirable  intellect,  which  had  been  exercised  and 
developed  by  deep  study  and  large  experience  in  the  practical 
conduct  of  affairs.  His  education  was  like  that  which  Milton 
describes  as  "  fitting  to  a  man  to  perform  justly,  sldlfully  and 
magnanimously,  all  the  offices,  both  public  and  private,  of 
peace  and  war/'  His  opinions  were  definite  and  fixed  ;  were 
held  with  the  confidence  which  is  the  result  of  complete  con- 
viction ;  and  came  from  him  recommended  by  a  powerful  elo- 
quence, and  a  persuasive  fairness  and  magnanimity.  The 
strength  of  Ins  passions  gave  him  an  almost  unbounded 
influence  over  the  minds  of  others,  which  he  never  perverted  to 
selfish  purposes  or  unworthy  ends. 

A  lofty  integrity  was  one  of  the  most  prominent  traits  of 
his  character.  It  was  not,  as  in  his  great  contemporary  Jay, 
clothed  with  the  appearance  of  austerity,  nor  did  it,  perhaps, 
so  much  as  in  the  latter  spring  from  a  constant  and  habitual 
sense  of  responsibility  to  a  Supreme  Being ;  but  it  was  rather 
a  rare  and  noble  elevation  of  soul,  the  spontaneous  develop- 
ment of  a  nature  which  could  not  harbor  a  base  or  unworthy 
motive,  cherished  indeed  and  fortified  by  a  firm  faith  and  a 
strong  religious  temperament.  It  was  this  which  enabled  him 
to  spend  so  long  a  period  of  his  fife  in  the  public  service  in 
the  exercise  of  the  most  important  public  trusts— among 
them  that  of  the  Treasury  department,  with  the  whole  finan- 
cial arrangements  of  the  country  under  his  control,  and  come 
from  it  all  without  a  stain  or  a  suspicion.  His  character  for 
uprightness  might  be  presented  as  an  example  in  illustration 
of  the  fine  precept  of  Horace  : 


 Hie  mums  aheneus  esto 

Nil  conscire  sibi,  nulla  pallescere  culpa. 


HAMILTON. 


253 


Political  hostility  and  private  malice  explored  every  cor- 
ner of  his  life  with  the  hope  of  fixing  a  stain  upon  his  official 
integrity ;  but  these  miserable  attempts  had  no  other  effect 
than  to  bring  defeat  and  disgrace  on  the  authors  of  them. 
His  honesty  was  as  conspicuous  in  his  private  as  in  his  public 
career,  and  was  indeed  sometimes  carried  to  an  extent  which 
we  fear  might  seem  in  our  times  like  an  absurd  refinement. 
When  about  to  enter  upon  his  duties  as  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury,  he  was  applied  to  by  some  friends  engaged  in  mone- 
tary transactions  for  information  with  respect  to  the  policy 
which  he  proposed  to  pursue,  the  disclosure  of  which  would 
perhaps  promote  their  interests,  and  not  injure  those  of  the 
public.  But  this  he  utterly  refused  to  give,  holding  it  as  in- 
consistent with  his  duty  as  a  public  servant,  to  make  his  office 
even  the  indirect  means  of  contributing  to  the  emolument  of 
friends  by  imparting  to  them  information  which  was  not  open 
to  all  alike.  While  at  the  bar,  and  practising  only  as  counsel- 
lor, he  was  associated  with  the  Messrs.  Ogden,  who  were  then 
leading  members  of  the  profession  in  New- York  city,  and  he 
received  only  the  retaining  and  trial  fees,  though  his  reputa- 
tion brought  to  the  office  a  large  proportion  of  all  the  impor- 
tant suits  which  arose.  It  was  proposed  to  him  to  form  a 
connection  with  other  attorneys,  by  which  engagement  he 
might  receive  a  portion  of  the  attorney's  fees  in  addition  ;  but 
this  offer  he  at  once  rejected,  saying  that  he  could  not  consent 
to  receive  any  compensation  for  services  not  his  own,  or  for 
the  character  of  which  he  was  not  responsible. 

In  his  disposition  he  was  one  of  the  most  amiable  and 
attractive  of  men  ;  and  though  capable  of  strong  indignation, 
which  made  him  always  respected  and  sometimes  feared  by  his 


254  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

adversaries,  he  was  yet  of  such  a  mild  and  placable  temper 
that  no  man  could  be  long  and  sincerely  his  enemy.  In  per- 
son he  was  rather  below  the  average  height,  his  form  was  well 
proportioned,  and  his  manner  dignified  and  conciliating.  The 
lower  features  of  his  countenance  were  regular  and  handsome, 
and  beaming  with  the  warm  affections  and  generous  senti- 
ments of  his  heart.  His  brow  and  forehead  were  of  a  mas- 
sive cast,  expressive  of  the  commanding  intellect  which  lay 
behind.  He  was  fond  of  society,  full  of  the  most  lively  and 
various  conversation,  which  made  him  the  delight  and  orna- 
ment of  every  circle  he  entered.  During  his  time  the  Su- 
preme Court  used  to  hold  its  terms  at  New- York  and  Albany 
alternately,  and  the  bar  was  then  obliged  to  follow  it  back 
and  forth  between  those  cities,  the  journey  occupying  at  that 
time  three  or  four  days.  Of  course  this  was  a  season  of  hilar- 
ity, and  upon  such  occasions  Hamilton  was  the  life  of  the 
party,  sometimes  charming  the  whole  company  by  his  inge- 
nious and  eloquent  discussions  of  the  various  subjects  of  con- 
versation, and  at  others  calling  forth  shouts  of  laughter  by 
his  pointed  and  genial  wit.  An  anecdote  has  been  related  to 
us  by  one  who  was  present  on  the  occasion,  which  well  illus- 
trates the  power  which  lay  in  his  fascinating  manner  and 
conversation.  During  the  hostilities  between  France  and  Eng- 
land, which  succeeded  the  revolution  in  the  former  country, 
a  French  man  of  war  having  on  board  Jerome  Bonaparte,  the 
brother  of  Napoleon,  and  afterwards  king  of  Westphalia,  was 
chased  into  the  harbor  of  New- York  by  two  English  frigates. 
It  was  during  the  visit  which  Jerome  was  thus  compelled  to 
make  to  this  country,  that  he  became  acquainted  with  and 
married  the  beautiful  Miss  Patterson,  of  Baltimore.  The 


HAMILTON. 


255 


genius  and  the  fortunes  of  Napoleon  were  then  for  the  first 
time  astonishing  the  world,  and  caused  Jerome  to  be  received 
with  the  most  extraordinary  marks  of  attention  in  the  different 
cities  of  the  United  States.  While  he  was  in  New- York 
Hamilton  made  a  dinner  party  for  him,  to  which  a  number  of 
the  chief  personages  of  the  time  were  invited.  He  was  then 
living  at  "  Grange,"  and,  as  it  happened,  upon  the  very  day  of 
the  party  was  engaged  in  the  argument  of  an  important  cause 
in  the  city,  which  detained  him  there  until  after  the  hour  for 
which  his  guests  were  invited.  A  long  delay  ensued  after  the 
company  had  assembled,  and  the  embarrassment  of  Mrs.  Ham- 
ilton may  be  imagined.  There  was  evidently  a  feeling  of  un- 
easiness and  discontent  springing  up  in  the  minds  of  the  guests, 
and  especially  was  this  the  case  with  the  distinguished  brother 
of  the  First  Consul.  He  was  affected  with  the  usual  sensi- 
tiveness of  a  novus  homo  upon  the  point  of  etiquette,  and  it 
seemed  to  pass  his  comprehension  how  a  man  of  Hamilton's 
private  and  official  eminence  should  be  engaged  in  any  of  the 
ordinary  pursuits  of  life,  and  especially  that  such  concerns, 
or  any  concerns  whatever,  should  be  allowed  to  detain  him  a 
single  moment  from  the  society  of  his  guests,  one  of  whom 
had  the  honor  to  be  no  less  a  person  than  Jerome  Bonaparte. 
At  a  late  hour,  after  the  quality  of  the  dinner  and  the  tem- 
per of  the  guests  had  become  about  equally  impaired,  Hamil- 
ton arrived.  He  was  met  by  his  desponding  wife,  and  in- 
formed of  the  distressing  predicament  which  his  delay  had 
occasioned.  After  making  a  hasty  toilet,  he  entered  the 
drawing-room,  and  found  that  the  affair  indeed  wore  a  most 
perilous  aspect.  The  appearance  of  the  distinguished  French- 
man was  especially  unpromising.     But  Hamilton  was  quite 


256         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

equal  to  the  emergency.  Gracefully  apologizing  for  his  tardi- 
ness, he  at  once  entered  into  a  most  animated  and  eloquent 
conversation,  drew  out  his  different  guests  with  admirable 
dexterity,  and  enlisted  them  with  one  another,  and  especially 
recommended  himself  to  the  late  Miss  Patterson  by  a  lively 
chat  in  French,  of  which  language  he  was  a  master.  The 
discontented  features  of  the  Bonaparte  began  to  relax,  and  it 
soon  became  evident  that  he  was  in  the  most  amiable  mood, 
and  one  of  the  most  gratified  of  the  party.  The  dinner  pass- 
ed off  admirably,  and  it  seemed  to  be  generally  conceded  that 
the  delay  in  the  beginning  was  amply  atoned  for  by  the  de- 
lightful entertainment  which  followed. 

We  should  do  injustice  to  one  of  the  most  amiable  traits 
of  Hamilton's  character  if  we  omitted  particularly  to  notice 
the  strength  and  tenderness  of  his  friendships.  Incapable  of 
treachery,  free  from  all  disguise,  and  imbued  with  the  largest 
sympathies,  he  drew  to  himself  the  esteem  and  affection  of  all 
who  knew  him  ;  and  such  was  his  admiration  for  noble  and 
generous  qualities,  that  he  could  not  see  them  displayed  with- 
out clasping  their  possessors  to  his  heart.  He  was  a  general 
favorite  in  the  army,  and  between  some  of  the  choicest  spirits 
in  it  and  himself,  there  was  an  almost  romantic  affection. 
Those  that  knew  him  best  loved  him  most.  The  family  of 
Washington  were  as  dear  to  him  as  if  they  were  kindred  by 
blood.  Meade,  McHenry,  Tilghman,  the  "  Old  Secretary," 
Harrison,  and  the  generous  and  high-souled  Laurens,  were  in 
every  change  of  fortune  his  cherished  and  bosom  friends. 
The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  Laurens,  shows  the 
nature  of  Hamilton's  attachment.    "  Cold  in  my  professions, 


H  AM  I  L  T  0  N. 


257 


warm  in  my  friendships,  I  wish  my  dear  Laurens  it  were  in 
my  power,  by  actions  rather  than  by  words,  to  convince  you 
that  I  love  you.    I  shall  only  tell  you  that  till  you  bid  us 
adieu,  I  hardly  knew  the  value  you  had  taught  my  heart  to 
set  upon  you.    Indeed,  my  friend,  it  were  not  well  done.  You 
know  the  opinion  I  entertain  of  mankind  ;  and  how  much  it 
is  my  desire  to  preserve  myself  free  from  particular  attach- 
ments, and  to  keep  my  happiness  free  from  the  caprices  of 
others.    You  should  not  have  taken  advantage  of  my  sensi- 
bility to  steal  into  my  affections,  without  my  consent."  The 
openness  of  his  heart  and  the  flexibility  of  his  manners  made 
him  a  great  favorite  with  the  French  officers.  Lafayette  loved 
him  as  a  brother,  and  in  one  of  his  letters  to  him  thus  writes  : 
"  I  know  the  General's  (Washington's)  friendship  and  grati- 
tude for  you,  my  dear  Hamilton  ;  both  are  greater  than  you 
perhaps  imagine.    I  am  sure  he  needs  only  to  be  told  that 
something  will  suit  you,  and  when  he  thinks  he  can  do  it,  he 
certainly  will.    Before  this  campaign  I  was  your  friend,  and 
very  intimate  friend,  agreeably  to  the  ideas  of  the  world  ; 
since  my  second  voyage,  my  sentiment  has  increased  to  such 
a  point  the  world  knows  nothing  about.    To  show  both,  from 
want  and  from  scorn  of  expression,  I  shall  only  tell  you, 
adieu/'     Talleyrand,  the  celebrated  minister  of  Napoleon, 
whatever  may  be  said  of  the  character  of  his  diplomacy,  had  a 
heart  that  was  capable  of  friendship,  and  while  in  this  coun- 
try conceived  a  particular  fondness  for  Hamilton,  and  on  his 
departure  for  France  he  took  from  the  house  of  the  latter, 
without  permission,  a  miniature  belonging  to  Mrs.  Hamilton 
of  her  husband.    When  fairly  out  of  reach  he  addressed  a 


258  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

note  to  Mrs.  Hamilton  confessing  the  larceny,  and  excusing  it 
on  the  ground  that  he  wanted  a  copy  of  it,  but  knew  that 
she  would  not  let  him  take  the  original  away  to  be  copied  if 
he  had  made  the  request.  He  had  an  excellent  copy  of  the 
miniature  taken  upon  Sevres  china,  which  he  always  kept  in  a 
conspicuous  place  in  his  apartment  until  late  in  life,  when  he 
presented  it  with  a  lock  of  his  hair  to  a  son  of  Hamilton,  James 
A.  Hamilton  Esq.,  of  Dobb's  Ferry,  N.  Y.,  who  still  retains  it. 
The  indignation  t  of  Talleyrand  at  the  conduct  of  Burr  in 
bringing  about  the  melancholy  duel  was  unbounded ;  and 
when  Burr,  subsequently  to  that  event,  was  on  a  visit  to  France, 
he  wrote  a  note  to  Talleyrand,  requesting  the  privilege  of  pay- 
ing him  a  visit.  Of  course  the  French  minister  could  not 
refuse  this  favor  to  a  man  who  had  been  Vice-President  of  the 
United  States,  and  in  other  respects  so  eminent  a  person  ;  but 
Ins  answer  was  something  like  tins  :  "  The  Minister  of  For- 
eign Affairs  would  be  happy  to  see  Col.  Burr  at — (naming  the 
hour)  ;  but  M.  Talleyrand  thinks  it  due  to  Col.  Burr  to  state, 
that  he  always  has  the  miniature  of  General  Hamilton  hang- 
ing over  his  mantel-piGce." 

In  contemplating  the  life  of  Hamilton,  it  is  of  course  im- 
possible not  to  feel  the  deepest  regret  that  so  much  genius,  so 
much  usefulness,  and  so  much  promise,  should  have  been  so 
prematurely  cut  off.  Great  as  was  his  actual  performance,  it 
is  natural  and  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  results  of  his 
youth  and  early  manhood  would  have  been  far  eclipsed  by 
those  of  his  splendid  maturity.  But  as  it  is,  "  he  lived  long 
enough  for  glory."  The  influence  of  his  presence  and  man- 
ners, the  excitements  in  which  he  mingled  when  alive — every 


HAMILTON. 


259 


thing  which  tends  to  give  a  fictitious  importance  to  present 
greatness,  have  passed  away.  But  his  reputation,  which  some 
have  thought  to  rest  upon  these  very  circumstances,  stands  un- 
affected by  their  decay,— a  fact  which  sufficiently  attests  the 
enduring  nature  of  his  fame. 


MARSHALL. 

JOHN  MARSHALL,  son  of  Colonel  Thomas  Marshall,  a 
planter  of  moderate  fortune,  was  born  in  Germantown, 
Fauquier  County,  Virginia,  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  Septem- 
ber, 1755.  When  twenty-one  years  of  age,  he  was  commis- 
sioned as  a  lieutenant  in  the  continental  service,  and  marching 
with  his  regiment  to  the  north,  was  appointed  captain  in  the 
spring  of  1777,  and  in  that  capacity  served  in  the  battles  of 
Brandywine,  Garmantown,  and  Monmouth;  was  at  Valley 


264         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Forge  during  the  winter  of  1778,  and  was  one  of  the  covering 
party  at  the  assault  of  Stoney  Point,  in  June,  1779.  Having 
returned  to  his  native  State  at  the  expiration  of  the  enlist- 
ment of  the  Virginia  troops,  in  1780  he  received  a  license  for 
the  practice  of  the  law,  and  rapidly  rose  to  distinction  in  that 
profession.  In  1782  he  was  chosen  a  representative  to  the 
legislature,  and  afterward  a  member  of  the  executive  council. 
In  January,  1783,  he  married  Mary  Willis  Ambler,  of  York, 
in  Virginia,  with  whom  he  lived  for  fifty  years  in  the  tenderest 
affection.  He  was  a  delegate  to  the  convention  of  Virginia 
which  met  on  the  second  of  June,  1788,  to  take  into  consider- 
ation the  new  constitution,  and  in  conjunction  with  his  friend, 
Mr.  Madison,  mainly  contributed  to  its  adoption,  in  opposition 
to  the  ardent  efforts  of  Henry,  Grayson,  and  Mason.  His 
name  first  became  generally  known  throughout  the  nation  by 
his  vindication,  in  the  legislature  of  the  State,  of  the  ratifica- 
tion of  Jay's  treaty  by  President  Washington.  No  report  of 
that  speech  remains,  but  the  evidence  of  its  ability  survives  in 
the  effects  which  it  produced  on  the  legislature  and  the  coun- 
try. He  continued  in  the  practice  of  the  law,  having  declined 
successively  the  offices  of  Attorney  General  of  the  United 
States  and  Minister  to  France,  until  1797,  when  with  General 
Pinkney  and  Mr.  Gerry,  he  was  sent  on  a  special  mission  to 
the  French  republic.  The  manner  in  which  the  dignity  of  the 
American  character  was  maintained  against  the  corruption  of 
the  Directory  and  its  ministers  is  well  known.  The  letters  of 
the  seventeenth  of  January  and  third  of  April,  1798,  to  Tal- 
leyrand, the  Minister  of  Foreign  Kelations,  have  always  been 
attributed  to  Marshall,  and  they  rank  among  the  ablest  and 
most  effective  of  diplomatic  communications.    Mr.  Marshall 


MARSHALL. 


2G5 


arrived  in  New- York  on  the  seventeenth  of  June,  1798,  and 
on  the  nineteenth  entered  Philadelphia.  At  the  intelligence 
of  his  approach  the  whole  city  poured  out  toward  Frankford 
to  receive  him,  and  escorted  him  to  his  lodgings  with  all  the 
honors  of  a  triumph.  In  after  years,  when  he  visited  Phila- 
delphia, he  often  spoke  of  the  feelings  with  which,  as  he  came 
near  the  city  on  that  occasion,  with  some  doubts  as  to  the  re- 
ception which  he  might  meet  with  in  the  existing  state  of  par- 
ties, he  beheld  the  multitude  rushing  forth  to  crowd  about  him 
with  every  demonstration  of  respect  and  approbation,  as  hav- 
ing been  the  most  interesting  and  gratifying  of  his  life. 

On  his  return  to  Virginia,  at  the  special  request  of  General 
Washington,  he  became  a  candidate  for  the  House  of  Eepre- 
sentatives,  and  was  elected  in  the  spring  of  1799.  His  great- 
est effort  in  Congress  was  his  speech  in  opposition  to  the  reso- 
lutions of  Edward  Livingston  relative  to  Thomas  Nash,  alias 
Jonathan  Bobbins.  Fortunately  we  possess  an  accurate  re- 
port of  it,  revised  by  himself.  The  case  was,  that  Thomas 
Nash,  having  committed  a  murder  on  board  the  British  frigate 
Hermione,  navigating  the  high  seas  under  a  commission  from 
the  British  king,  had  sought  an  asylum  within  the  United 
States,  and  his  delivery  had  been  demanded  by  the  British 
minister  under  the  twenty-seventh  article  of  the  treaty  of 
amity  between  the  two  nations.  Mr.  Marshall's  argument 
first  established  that  the  crime  was  within'  the  jurisdiction  of 
Great  Britain,  on  the  general  principles  of  public  law,  and  then 
demonstrated,  that  under  the  constitution  the  case  was  sub- 
ject to  the  disposal  of  the  executive,  and  not  the  judiciary. 
He  distinguished  these  departments  from  one  another  with  an 
acuteness  of  discrimination  and  a  force  of  logic  which  frustrated 


266 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


the  attempt  to  carry  the  judiciary  out  of  its  orbit,  and  settled 
the  political  question,  then  and  for  ever.  It  is  said  that  Mr. 
Gallatin,  whose  part  it  was  to  reply  to  Mr.  Marshall,  at  the 
close  of  the  speech  turned  to  some  of  his  friends  and  said, 
"  You  may  answer  that  if  you  choose  ;  I  cannot."  The  argu- 
ment deserves  to  rank  among  the  most  dignified  displays  of 
human  intellect.  At  the  close  of  the  session,  Mr.  Marshall 
was  appointed  Secretary  of  War,  and  soon  after  Secretary  of 
State.  During  his  continuance  in  that  department  our  rela- 
tions with  England  were  in  a  very  interesting  condition,  and 
his  correspondence  with  Mr.  King  exhibits  his  abilities  and 
spirit  in  the  most  dignified  point  of  view.  "  His  despatch  of 
the  twentieth  of  September,  1800,"  says  Mr.  Binney,  "  is  a 
noble  specimen  of  the  first  order  of  state  papers,  and  shows  the 
most  finished  adaptation  of  parts  for  the  station  of  an  Ameri- 
can Secretary  of  State."  On  the  thirty-first  of  January,  1801, 
he  was  appointed  Chief  Justice  of  the  United  States,  in  which 
office  he  continued  until  his  death.  In  1804  he  published  the 
Biography  of  Washington,  which  for  candor,  accuracy,  and 
comprehension,  will  for  ever  be  the  most  authentic  history  of 
the  He  volution.  He  died  in  Philadelphia  on  the  sixth  of  July, 
1835. 

Mr.  Marshall's  career  as  Chief  Justice  extended  through  a 
period  of  more  than  thirty-four  years,  which  is  the  longest  ju- 
dicial tenure  recorded  in  history.  To  one  who  cannot  follow 
his  great  judgments,  in  which,  at  the  same  time,  the  depths 
of  legal  wisdom  are  disclosed  and  the  limits  of  human  reason 
measured,  the  language  of  just  eulogy  must  wear  an  appear- 
ance of  extravagance.  In  his  own  profession  he  stands  for  the 
reverence  of  the  wise  rather  than  for  the  enthusiasm  of  the 


MARSHALL. 


267 


many.  The  proportion  of  the  figure  was  so  perfect,  that  the 
sense  of  its  vastness  was  lost.  Above  the  difficulties  of  com- 
mon minds,  he  was  in  some  degree  above  their  sympathy. 
Saved  from  popularity  by  the  very  rarity  of  his  qualities,  he  as- 
tonished the  most  where  he  was  best  understood.  The  questions 
upon  which  his  judgment  was  detained,  and  the  considerations 
by  which  his  decision  was  at  last  determined,  were  such  as  or- 
dinary understandings,  not  merely  could  not  resolve,  but  were 
often  inadequate  even  to  appreciate  or  apprehend.  It  was  his 
manner  to  deal  directly  with  the  results  of  thought  and  learn- 
ing, and  the  length  and  labor  of  the  processes  by  which  these 
results  were  suggested  and  verified  might  elude  the  conscious- 
ness of  those  who  had  not  themselves  attempted  to  perform 
them.  From  the  position  in  which  he  stood  of  evident  superi- 
ority to  his  subject,  it  was  obviously  so  easy  for  him  to  de- 
scribe its  character  aud  define  its  relations,  that  we  sometimes 
forgot  to  wonder  by  what  faculties  or  what  efforts  he  had  at- 
tained to  that  eminence.  We  were  so  much  accustomed  to 
see  his  mind  move  only  in  the  light,  that  there  was  a  danger 
of  our  not  observing  that  the  illumination  by  which  it  was  sur- 
rounded was  the  beam  of  its  own  presence,  and  not  the  natural 
atmosphere  of  the  scene. 

The  true  character  and  measure  of  Marshall's  greatness 
are  missed  by  those  who  conceive  of  him  as  limited  within  the 
sphere  of  the  justices  of  England,  and  who  describe  him  merely 
as  the  first  of  lawyers.  To  have  been  "  the  most  consummate 
judge  that  ever  sat  in  judgment/'  was  the  highest  possibility 
of  Eldon's  merit,  but  was  only  a  segment  of  Marshall's  fame. 
It  was  in  a  distinct  department,  of  more  dignified  functions, 
almost  of  an  opposite  kind,  that  he  displayed  those  abilities 


268  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

that  advance  his  name  to  the  highest  renown,  and  shed  around 
it  the  glories  of  a  statesman  and  legislator.  The  powers  of 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  are  such  as  were 
never  before  confided  to  a  judicial  tribunal  by  any  people.  As 
determining,  without  appeal,  its  own  jurisdiction,  and  that  of 
the  legislature  and  executive,  that  court  is  not  merely  the 
highest  estate  in  the  country,  but  it  settles  and  continually 
moulds  the  constitution  of  the  government.  Of  the  great  work 
of  constructing  a  nation,  but  a  small  part,  practically,  had 
been  performed  when  the  written  document  had  been  signed 
by  the  convention :  a  vicious  theory  of  interpretation  might 
defeat  the  grandeur  and  unity  of  the  organization,  and  a  want 
of  comprehension  and  foresight  might  fatally  perplex  the  har- 
mony of  the  combination.  The  administration  of  a  system  of 
polity  is  the  larger  part  of  its  establishment,  What  the  con- 
stitution was  to  be,  depended  on  the  principles  on  which  the 
federal  instrument  was  to  be  construed,  and  they  were  not  to 
be  found  in  the  maxims  and  modes  of  reasoning  by  which  the 
law  determines  upon  social  contracts  between  man  and  man, 
but  were  to  be  sought  anew  in  the  elements  of  political  philo- 
sophy and  the  general  suggestions  of  legislative  wisdom.  To 
these  august  duties  Judge  Marshall  brought  a  greatness  of  con- 
ception that  was  commensurate  with  their  difficulty ;  he  came 
to  them  in  the  spirit  and  with  the  strength  of  one  who  would 
minister  to  the  development  of  a  nation  ;  and  it  was  the  essen- 
tial sagacity  of  his  guiding  mind  that  saved  us  from  illustrating 
the  sarcasms  of  Mr.  Burke  about  paper  constitutions.  He  saw 
the  futility  of  attempting  to  control  society  by  a  metaphysical 
theory ;  he  apprehended  the  just  relation  between  opinion  and 
life,  between  the  forms  of  speculation  and  the  force  of  things. 


MARSHALL. 


269 


Knowing  that  we  are  wise  in  respect  to  nature,  only  as  we 
give  back  to  it  faithfully  what  we  have  learned  from  it  obedi- 
ently, he  sought  to  fix  the  wisdom  of  the  real  and  to  resolve  it 
into  principles.  He  made  the  nation  explain  its  constitution, 
and  compelled  the  actual  to  define  the  possible.  Experience 
was  the  dialectic  by  which  he  deduced  from  substantial  pre- 
mises a  practical  conclusion.  The  might  of  reason  by  which 
convenience  and  right  were  thus  moulded  into  union,  was 
amazing.  But  while  he  knew  the  folly  of  endeavoring  to  be 
wiser  than  time,  his  matchless  resources  of  good  sense  contribut- 
ed to  the  orderly  development  of  the  inherent  elements  of  the 
constitution,  by  a  vigor  and  dexterity  as  eminent  in  their  kind 
as  they  were  rare  in  their  combination.  The  vessel  of  state 
was  launched  by  the  patriotism  of  many :  the  chart  of  her 
course  was  designed  chiefly  by  Hamilton :  but  when  the  voy- 
age was  begun,  the  eye  that  observed,  and  the  head  that  reck- 
oned, and  the  hand  that  compelled  the  ship  to  keep  her  course 
amid  tempests  without,  and  threats  of  mutiny  within,  were 
those  of  the  great  Chief  Justice.  Posterity  will  give  him  rev- 
erence as  one  of  the  founders  of  the  nation ;  and  of  that  group 
of  statesmen  who  may  one  day  perhaps  be  regarded  as  above 
the  nature,  as  they  certainly  were  beyond  the  dimensions  of 
men,  no  figure,  save  one  alone,  will  rise  upon  the  eye  in  gran- 
deur more  towering  than  that  of  J ohn  Marshall. 

The  authority  of  the  Supreme  Court,  however,  is  not  con- 
fined to  cases  of  constitutional  law;  it  embraces  the  whole 
range  of  judicial  action,  as  it  is  distributed  in  England,  into 
legal,  equitable,  and  maritime  jurisdictions.  The  equity  sys- 
tem of  this  court  was  too  little  developed  to  enable  us  to  say 
what  Marshall  would  have  been  as  a  chancellor.    It  is  difficult 


270         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

to  admit  that  he  would  have  been  inferior  to  Lord  Eldon :  it 
is  irnposible  to  conceive  that  he  could  at  all  have  resembled 
Lord  Eldon.  But  undoubtedly  the  native  region  and  proper 
interest  of  a  mind  so  analytical  and  so  sound,  so  piercing  and 
so  practical,  was  the  common  law,  that  vigorous  system  of 
manly  reason  and  essential  right,  that  splendid  scheme  of  mo- 
rality expanded  by  logic  and  informed  by  prudence.  Perhaps 
the  highest  range  of  English  intelligence  is  illustrated  in  the 
law ;  yet  where,  in  the  whole  line  of  that  august  succession, 
will  be  found  a  character  which  fills  the  measure  of  judicial 
greatness  so  completely  as  Chief  J ustice  Marshall  ?  Where, 
in  English  history,  is  the  judge,  whose  mind  was  at  once  so  en- 
larged and  so  systematic,  who  so  thoroughly  had  reduced  pro- 
fessional science  to  general  reason,  in  whose  disciplined  intel- 
lect technical  learning  had  so  completely  passed  into  native 
sense  ?  Vast  as  the  reach  of  the  law  is,  it  is  not  an  exagger- 
ation to  say  that  Marshall's  understanding  was  greater,  and 
embraced  the  forms  of  legal  sagacity  within  it,  as  a  part  of  its 
own  spontaneous  wisdom.  He  discriminated  with  instinctive 
accuracy  between  those  technicalities  which  have  sprung  from 
the  narrowness  of  inferior  minds,  and  those  which  are  set  by 
the  law  for  the  defence  of  some  vital  element  of  justice  or  rea- 
son. The  former  he  brushed  away  like  cobwebs,  while  he 
yielded  to  the  latter  with  a  respect  which  sometimes  seemed 
to  those  "whose  eyes  were"  not  "opened,"  a  species  of  super- 
stition. In  his  judicial  office  the  method  of  Marshall  appeared 
to  be,  first  to  bow  his  understanding  reverently  to  the  law,  and 
calmly  and  patiently  to  receive  its  instructions  as  those  of  an 
oracle  of  which  he  was  the  minister  ;  then  to  prove  these  dic- 
tates by  the  most  searching  processes  of  reason,  and  to  deliver 


MARSHALL. 


271 


them  to  others,  not  as  decrees  to  be  obeyed,  but  as  logical 
manifestations  of  moral  truth.  Undoubtedly  he  made  much 
use  of  adjudged  cases ;  but  he  used  them  to  give  light  and 
certainty  to  his  own  judgment,  and  not  for  the  vindication  or 
support  of  the  law.  He  would  have  deemed  it  a  reproach 
alike  to  his  abilities  and  his  station,  if  he  should  have  deter- 
mined upon  precedent  what  could  have  been  demonstrated  by 
reason,  or  had  referred  to  authority  what  belonged  to  principle. 
With  singular  capacity,  he  united  systematic  reason  with  a  per- 
ception of  particular  equity :  too  scrupulous  a  regard  for  the 
latter  led  Lord  Eldon,  in  most  instances,  to  adjudicate  nothing 
but  the  case  before  him ;  but  Marshall  remembered  that  while 
he  owed  to  the  suitors  the  decision  of  the  case,  he  owed  to  so- 
ciety the  establishment  of  the  principle.  His  mind  naturally 
tended,  not  to  suggestion  and  speculation,  but  to  the  deter- 
mination of  opinion  and  the  closing  of  doubts.  On  the  bench, 
he  always  recollected  that  he  was  not  merely  a  lawyer,  and 
much  less  a  legal  essayist ;  he  was  conscious  of  .an  official  duty 
and  an  official  authority;  and  considered  that  questions  might 
be  discussed  elsewhere,  but  came  to  be  settled  by  him.  The 
dignity  with  which  these  duties  were  discharged  was  not  the 
least  admirable  part  of  the  display.  It  was  wisdom  on  the 
seat  of  power,  pronouncing  the  decrees  of  justice. 

Political  and  legal  sense  are  so  distinct  from  one  another 
as  almost  to  be  irreconcilable  in  the  same  mind.  The  latter  is 
a  mere  course  of  deduction  from  premises ;  the  other  calls  into 
exercise  the  highest  order  of  perceptive  faculties,  and  that 
quick  felicity  of  intuition  which  flashes  to  its  conclusions  by  a 
species  of  mental  sympathy  rather  than  by  any  conscious  pro- 
cess of  argumentation.    The  one  requires  that  the  susceptibi- 


272  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

lity  of  the  judgment  should  be  kept  exquisitely  alive  to  every 
suggestion  of  the  practical,  so  as  to  catch  and  follow  the  in- 
sensible reasonings  of  life,  rather  than  to  reason  itself :  the 
other  demands  the  exclusion  of  every  thing  not  rigorously  ex- 
act, and  the  concentration  of  the  whole  consciousness  of  the 
mind  in  kindling  implicit  truth  into  formal  principles.  The 
wonder,  in  Judge  Marshall's  case,  was  to  see  these  two  almost 
inconsistent  faculties,  in  quality  so  matchless,  and  in  develop- 
ment so  magnificent,  harmonized  and  united  in  his  marvellous 
intelligence.  We  beheld  him  pass  from  one  to  the  other  de- 
partment without  confusing  their  nature,  and  without  perplex- 
ing his  own  understanding.  When  he  approached  a  question 
of  constitutional  jurisprudence,  we  saw  the  lawyer  expand  into 
the  legislator ;  and  in  returning  to  a  narrower  sphere,  pause 
from  the  creative  glow  of  statesmanship,  and  descend  from  in- 
tercourse with  the  great  conceptions  and  great  feelings  by 
which  nations  are  guided  and  society  is  advanced,  to  submit 
his  faculties  with  docility  to  the  yoke  of  legal  forms,  and  with 
impassible  calmness  to  thread  the  tangled  intricacies  of  forensic 
technicalities. 

There  was  in  this  extraordinary  man  an  unusual  combina- 
tion of  the  capacity  of  apprehending  truth,  with  the  ability  to 
demonstrate  and  make  it  palpable  to  others.  They  often  exist 
together  in  unequal  degrees.  Lord  Mansfield's  power  of  lu- 
minous explication  was  so  surpassing  that  one  might  almost 
say  that  he  made  others  perceive  what  he  did  not  understand 
himself;  but  the  numerous  instances  in  which  his  decisions 
have  been  directly  overthrown  by  his  successors,  and  the  still 
greater  number  of  cases  in  which  his  opinions  have  been  silently 
departed  from,  compel  a  belief  that  his  judgment  was  not  of 


MARSHALL.  273 

the  truest  kind.  Lord  Eldon's  judicial  sagacity  was  a  species 
of  inspiration ;  but  lie  seemed  to  be  unable  not  only  to  con- 
vince others,  but  even  to  certify  himself  of  the  correctness  of 
his  own  greatest  and  wisest  determinations.  But  Judge  Mar- 
shall's sense  appeared  to  be  at  once  both  instinctive  and  analy- 
tical :  his  logic  extended  as  far  as  his  perception :  he  had  no 
propositions  in  his  thoughts  which  he  could  not  resolve  into 
their  axioms.  Truth  came  to  him  as  a  revelation,  and  from 
him  as  a  demonstration.  His  mind  was  more  than  the  faculty 
of  vision ;  it  was  a  body  of  light,  which  irradiated  the  subject 
to  which  it  was  directed,  and  rendered  it  as  distinct  to  every 
other  eye  as  it  was  to  its  own. 

The  mental  integrity  of  this  illustrious  man  was  not  the 
least  important  element  of  his  greatness.  Those  qualities  of 
vanity,  fondness  for  display,  the  love  of  effect,  the  solicitation 
of  applause,  sensibility  to  opinions,  which  are  the  immoralities 
of  intellect,  never  attached  to  that  stainless  essence  of  pure 
reason.  He  seemed  to  men  to  be  a  passionless  intelligence ; 
susceptible  to  no  feeling  but  the  constant  love  of  right ;  sub- 
ject to  no  affection  but  a  polarity  toward  truth. 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  great  chief  justice  was 
married  when  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  to  Miss  Ambler,  of 
York,  in  Virginia ;  there  have  been  few  such  unions  in  every 
respect  more  fortunate  and  delightful ;  the  wife  died  but  a 
short  time  before  the  husband,  who,  not  more  than  two  days 
previous  to  his  own  decease,  directed  that  his  body  should  be 
laid  with  hers,  and  that  the  plain  stone  to  indicate  the  place 
of  their  rest  should  have  only  this  simple  inscription  : 

"John  Marshall,  son  of  Thomas  and  Mary  Marshall,  was  born  on  the  24th 
of  September,  1755,  intermarried  with  Mary  Willis  Ambler  on  the  3d  of  Janu- 
ary, 1783,  and  departed  this  life  the  day  of   18—." 


274 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


With  no  other  alteration  than  the  filling  of  the  blanks,  this 
is  engraved  on  the  modest  white  marble  which  is  over  their  re- 
mains in  the  beautiful  cemetery  on  Shoccoe  Hill,  of  Kichmond. 

The  chief  justice  always  lived  in  a  style  of  singular  sim- 
plicity ;  when  Secretary  of  State  at  "Washington,  he  resided 
in  a  brick  building  hardly  larger  than  most  of  the  kitch- 
ens now  in  use,  and  his  house  in  Kichmond,  to  which  he  soon 
after  removed,  was  characteristically  unostentatious.  From 
Kichmond  he  frequently  walked  out  three  or  four  miles  to  his 
farm  in  the  county  of  Henrico ;  and  once  a  year  he  made  a 
protracted  visit  to  his  other  farm,  near  his  birth-place,  in 
Fauquier. 

No  man  had  a  keener  relish  for  social  and  convivial  enjoy- 
ments, and  numerous  anecdotes  are  told  in  illustration  of  this 
trait  in  his  character.  Nearly  all  the  period  of  his  residence 
in  Kichmond,  he  was  a  member  of  a  club  which  met  near  the 
city  once  a  fortnight  to  pitch  quoits,  and  mingle  in  relaxing 
conversation ;  there  was  no  one  more  punctual  in  his  attend- 
ance at  its  meetings,  or  who  contributed  more  to  their  pleasant- 
ness ;  and  such  was  his  skill  in  the  manly  game  he  practised, 
that  he  would  hurl  his  iron  ring,  weighing  two  pounds,  with 
rarely  erring  aim,  fifty-five  or  sixty  feet,  and  when  he  or  his 
partner  made  any  specially  successful  exhibition  of  skill,  he 
would  leap  up  and  clap  his  hands  with  the  light-hearted  en- 
thusiasm of  boyhood. 


AMES. 


THE  house  in  which  Fisher  Ames  was  born  was  pulled 
down  somewhere  about  1818.  It  used  to  stand  on  the 
main  street  of  Dedham,  a  little  to  the  northeast,  and  over 
the  way  from  where  the  court-house  now  stands.  It  was  a 
roomy,  two-story,  peaked-roofed  old  building,  with  its  end  to 
the  street ;  the  oldest  part  having  an  addition  of  more  modern 
construction  on  the  front,  or  what,  with  reference  to  the 
street,  was  the  end.  The  rooms  were  low,  the  windows  small, 
and  the  lower  floor  was  sunken  a  little  below  the  ground.  A 
large  buttonwood  overshadowed  it  in  front,  and  from  behind 
an  elm,  the  latter  still  standing.  There  was  no  fence  between 
the  house  and  the  street,  and  the  intervening  space  was  cover- 
ed with  grass  of  that  thick  and  stubbed  growth  peculiar  to 
such  localities.  Behind  was  a  large  barn,  while  on  both  sides, 
and  back  for  fifty  or  sixty  rods,  to  the  Charles  River,  stretched 
a  broad  field  of  irregular  surface.  Just  across  the  street  was 
the  "  Front  Lot/'  a  piece  of  unoccupied  land,  including  that 
on  which  the  court-house  now  stands,  and  extending  east 
nearly  as  far  as  the  post-office.  On  the  corner  of  this  lot,  di- 
rectly in  front  of  the  house  stood,  subsequently, — that  is,  to  the 
year  1776,  when  it  was  erected, — a  stone  pillar  supporting  a 


278  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

column,  surmounted  by  a  wooden  head  of  Pitt,  the  same  hav- 
ing been  set  up  by  the  "  Sons  of  Liberty,"  a  brother  of  Fisher 
Ames  among  the  number,  on  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act. 
This  structure,  after  testifying  to  America's  gratitude  for  a 
number  of  years,  and  furnishing  to  the  corner  on  which  it 
stood,  the  name  of  "  Pitt's  Head,"  was  eventually  overthrown. 
The  stone  pillar  with  its  glowing  inscription,  after  lying  awhile 
by  the  roadside,  and  offering  a  seat  to  chatting  children,  and  a 
place,  in  the  spaces  of  the  letters,  for  cracking  nuts,  was  at 
length  set  up  in  its  old  place,  on  the  erection  of  the  court- 
house some  twenty-five  years  since,  where  it  still  stands.  But 
of  the  fate  of  the  column  and  the  head  we  have  no  account. 
This  wooden  head,  intended  by  its  enthusiastic  raisers,  with- 
out a  doubt,  to  be  "  rere  perennius,"  lay  kicking  about  the 
street ;  and  perhaps  found  refuge  at  last  from  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  weather  and  the  wasting  jack-knife  of  the  schoolboy,  in 
the  wood-box  or  the  garret  of  some  hospitable  patriot. 

The  old  house  was  long  kept  as  an  inn,  both  by  Dr.  Na- 
thaniel Ames,  the  father  of  Fisher,  and,  after  his  death,  by 
his  wife.  Innkeeping  in  those  days  was  not  so  engrossing  an 
occupation  as  at  present,  and  Dr.  Ames,  by  no  means  mainly 
a  Boniface,  found  time  for  the  care  of  his  farm,  for  the  prac- 
tice of  his  profession,  for  the  study  of  mathematics,  astron- 
omy, and  kindred  subjects  ;  and  for  the  application  of  the 
knowledge  thus  acquired,  in  the  making  of  almanacs  ;  a  busi- 
ness which  he  carried  on  for  forty  years.  In  their  veracious 
pages,  besides  indicating  the  doings  and  intentions  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  and  predicting  storms  with  all  the  accuracy  of 
which  the  case  was  susceptible,  Dr.  Ames  used  to  portray  the 
exciting  events  of  the  time  in  verse,  more  patriotic  and  vivid, 


AMES. 


279 


perhaps,  than  poetic.  He  was,  in  truth,  a  man  of  no  small  con- 
sideration in  Dedham,  of  much  natural  ability,  of  wit  and 
spirit. 

He  showed  these  last  qualities  once  on  a  time,  when  the 
colonial  judges  decided  some  law  case  against  him.  He 
thought  they  had  disregarded  the  law,  and  their  Keverences 
were  soon  seen,  sketched  on  a  sign-board  in  front  of  the  tavern, 
in  full  bottomed  wigs,  tippling,  with  their  backs  to  the  volume 
labelled  "  The  Province  Law."  The  authorities  at  Boston 
taking  umbrage  at  this,  dispatched  some  officers  to  Dedham 
to  remove  the  sign.  But  Dr.  Ames  was  too  quick  for  them  ; 
and  the  baffled  tipstaves  on  reaching  the  house  found  nothing 
hanging  but  a  board,  on  which  was  inscribed,  "  A  wicked  and 
adulterous  generation  seeketh  for  a  sign,  but  no  sign  shall  be 
given  them." 

Dr.  Ames  died  in  1764,  when  his  son  Fisher,  the  youngest 
child,  was  six  years  old  ;  having  besides  him,  a  son  of  his  own 
name  and  profession,  who  was  afterwards  a  violent  democrat 
and  opponent  of  Fisher  Ames,  two  other  sons  and  a  daughter. 
Of  these,  Fisher  was  the  only  one  who  left  descendants.  Mrs. 
Ames  continued  to  keep  the  inn,  and  married  again.  She 
was  a  very  shrewd  and  sensible  woman,  of  a  strong  and  singu- 
lar cast  of  mind.  She  took  a  hearty  interest  in  politics,  and 
hated  the  Jacobins  devoutly.  Innkeeping  was  a  favorite  oc- 
cupation with  her,  and  she  carried  matters  with  a  high  hand. 
We  have  heard  her  compared  to  Meg  Dods,  the  landlady  in 
St.  Konan's  Well.  She  outlived  her  son  Fisher  some  ten 
years  or  more. 

Fisher  Ames  was  a  delicate  child,  and  the  pet  of  his  ano- 
ther, whose  maiden  name  he  bore.    He  had  such  an  extrava- 


280         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

gant  fondness  for  books,  devouring  all  that  fell  within  his 
reach,  and  showed,  in  other  ways,  to  the  fond  perception  of 
his  parent,  such  unmistakable  signs  of  genius,  that  she  early 
determined  to  make  a  lawyer  of  him,  and  put  him  to  the 
study  of  Latin  at  six.  The  little  fellow  worked  bravely  at  his 
lessons  for  six  years,  reciting  sometimes  to  the  school-teacher, 
when  that  functionary  happened  to  be  more  than  usually 
learned,  sometimes  to  old  Mr.  Haven  the  minister,  with  whom 
he  early  made  friends,  and  to  various  other  persons.  In  1770, 
twelve  years  old,  he  was  admitted  to  Harvard  College.  Here 
he  spent  four  years  with  credit  and  success,  acquiring  greater 
distinction  in  the  study  of  the  languages  and  in  oratory,  than 
in  the  abstract  sciences.  He  was  conspicuous,  even  at  this 
early  age,  as  a  speaker,  being  one  of  the  leading  members  of 
a  society  for  improvement  in  eloquence,  then  newly  established. 
This  society,  under  the  style  of  "  The  Institute  of  1770,"  is 
still  flourishing  at  Cambiidge,  and  turns  out  annually  as  many 
orators,  perhaps,  as  any  similar  body  in  our  country.  ;  The 
writer  of  this  remembers  to  have  heard  there,  in  his  own  college 
days,  a  great  deal  of  sublime  elocution.  Fisher  Ames's  name 
occurs  on  the  records  a  number  of  times,  as  a  speaker,  and  a 
critic,  and  once  as  follows  :  "  June,  1,  1773. — Voted,  that 
Ames,  Clarke,  and  Eliot,  be  fined  4  pence  for  tardiness." 
Young  Ames  passed  through  college  with  unblemished  morals. 
"Happily,"  in  the  elegant  phrase  of  his  biographer,  "he  did 
not  need  the  smart  of  guilt  to  make  him  virtuous,  nor  the  re- 
gret of  folly  to  make  him  wise." 

In  the  summer  of  1774,  he  returned  to  his  mother's  house. 
Notwithstanding  her  predilection  for  law,  he  had  some  idea  of 
studying  medicine  or  divinity.    But,  the  year  of  the  Bos- 


AMES. 


281 


ton  Port  Bill  was  no  good  time  for  deciding  upon  a  course  of 
life,  or  beginning  it  when  determined  on.  Besides,  Fisher 
Ames  was  but  sixteen,  and  his  mother  was  poor.  For  a  short 
time,  therefore,  he  engaged  in  teaching  school ;  and,  after  a 
few  years  spent  in  desultory  but  unceasing  study  and  reading, 
he  began  law  in  the  office  of  Wm.  Tudor,  of  Boston. 

During  this  time  the  contest  was  going  on  in  which  his 
country's  liberties  were  involved,  and  young  Ames  was  a  watch- 
ful and  anxious  observer  of  its  progress.  It  was  at  his  mother's 
house  that  the  good  men  of  Dedham  used  to  meet,  to  see  what 
they  and  the  country  were  to  do.  Only  a  month  or  two  after 
his  return  from  college,  a  convention  from  all  the  towns  of 
Suffolk  county,  of  which  Dedham  was  then  a  part,  met  here 
to  deliberate.  We  can  imagine  the  heart  of  our  boy  of  sixteen 
burning  within  him,  and  his  eye  flashing  as  he  heard  the  out- 
raged citizens  of  Boston  tell  their  grievances,  and  as  he  longed 
to  be  a  man,  that  he  might  take  a  part  with  those  determined 
patriots  in  their  resolution  to  try  the  issue  with  Great  Britain, 
if  need  be,  at  the  point  of  the  sword.  Dedham  sent  some 
brave  soldiers  to  the  service,  and  Fisher  Ames,  young  as  he 
was,  went  out  in  one  or  two  short  expeditions. 

In  1781  we  find  him  entered  upon  the  practice  of  law  at 
Dedham,  where  he  soon  became  distinguished  as  an  advocate. 
In  those  days  the  manners  of  the  bench  were  very  rough. 
The  road  to  eminence  in  law  seemed  often  to  He  between  rows 
of  semi-barbarous  judges,  who  hurled  at  aspiring  barristers 
every  missile  of  abuse.  There  is  always  much,  it  is  true,  in  the 
deportment  of  young  lawyers  to  vex  the  temper  of  a  judge,  and 
perhaps  in  those  days  of  callow  independence  there  may  have 
been  more  than  common.    There  appears  to  be  something 


282        HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

about  that  great  science  to  which,  in  the  language  of  Hooker, 
"  all  things  in  heaven  and  earth  do  homage,  the  least  as  feel- 
ing her  care,  and  the  greatest  as  not  exempted  from  her 
bounty,"  that  breathes  unusual  dignity  into  its  servants,  espe- 
cially its  young  ones.  In  its  various  duties,  the  giving  of 
counsel,  the  questioning  of  witnesses,  and  the  frequent  display 
of  capacity  before  courts  and  juries,  the  seeds  of  vanity  find 
propitious  soil  and  start  into  rank  growth.  From  this  or  what- 
ever cause,  the  judges  of  old  times  were  crusty  and  abusive; 
and  old  Judge  Paine,  besides  being  all  this,  was  moreover  deaf, 
and  used  to  berate  counsel  roundly  at  times  for  what  was  no 
fault  of  theirs.  "I  tell  you  what,  "  said  Fisher  Ames,  as  he 
came  out  of  court  one  day,  "  a  man,  when  he  enters  that  court- 
room, ought  to  go  armed  with  a  speaking  trumpet  in  one  hand 
and  a  club  in  the  other."  At  another  time,  Ames  expressed 
a  rather  derogatory  opinion  of  the  intelligence  of  the  court." 
He  was  arguing  a  case  before  a  number  of  county  justices,  and 
having  finished,  turned  to  leave  the  room.  "  Ain't  you  going 
to  say  any  thing  more,  Mr.  Ames  ? "  anxiously  whispered  his 
client.  "No,"  rejoined  Ames;  "you  might  as  well  argue 
a  case  to  a  row  of  skim-milk  cheeses ! "  Perhaps  his  dislike 
to  these  dignitaries  may  have  been  an  inheritance.  May  not 
the  old  Doctor,  in  his  indignation  about  the  Province  Law 
matter,  like  another  Hamilcar,  have  made  his  son,  a  youthful 
Hannibal,  swear  eternal  hatred  to  his  foes  ? 

Mr.  Ames  was  now  a  rapidly  rising  man.  Various  essays 
on  political  subjects  from  his  pen  appeared  in  the  newspapers, 
and  contributed  to  draw  public  attention  to  him.  When 
quite  young,  he  was  sent  to  a  convention  held  at  Concord,  to 
consider  the  depreciated  state  of  the  currency,  where  he  made 


AMES. 


283 


an  eloquent  speech.  In  1788,  he  was  a  member  of  the  con- 
vention for  ratifying  the  federal  constitution.  Here  he  added 
much  to  Ins  fame  by  a  number  of  excellent  speeches.  One  on 
the  biennial  election  of  representatives  was  considered  the 
best,  and  is  the  only  one  given  in  his  works.  It  is  lucid, 
statesmanlike,  and  eloquent.  The  occasion  of  it  was  an  in- 
quiry by  Samuel  Adams,  why  representatives  were  not  made 
elective  annually.  To  this  Ames  alludes  in  the  closing  para- 
graph :  "  As  it  has  been  demanded  why  annual  elections  were 
not  preferred  to  biennial,  permit  me  to  retort  the  question, 
and  to  inquire,  in  my  turn,  what  reason  can  be  given  why,  if 
annual  elections  are  good,  biennial  elections  are  not  better  ?  " 
Adams  professed  himself  entirely  satisfied.  This  same  year 
Ames  represented  Dedham  in  the  legislature. 

In  1789,  Suffolk  county  sent  him  as  her  first  representa- 
tive to  Congress,  in  opposition  to  Samuel  Adams.  He  was  in 
Congress  eight  years,  during  the  whole  of  Washington's  admin- 
istration, and  was  one  of  the  most  prominent  leaders  of  the 
federal  party,  giving  to  the  President  uniform  and  important 
support.  In  this  period,  he  acquired  a  reputation  for  candor, 
integrity,  ability,  and  eloquence,  second  to  that  of  no  man  in 
Congress.  At  times,  particularly  towards  the  end  of  his  term, 
ill-health  compelled  his  absence  ;  yet  he  examined  with  care 
every  important  question  that  presented  itself,  and  spoke  upon 
almost  every  one.  But  of  Ins  numerous  efforts  in  Congress, 
only  two  are  printed  among  his  works,  one  on  certain  resolutions 
of  Madison's  for  imposing  additional  duties  on  foreign  goods, 
delivered  in  1794,  and  the  speech  on  Jay's  treaty,  two  years 
later,  his  most  brilliant  effort,  "  an  era,"  says  his  biographer, 


284         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

"in  his  political  life."  This  speech  was  written  out  from 
memory  by  Judge  Smith  and  Samuel  Dexter,  receiving  a  revi- 
sion from  Ames.  It  is  thus  alluded  to  by  Hildreth  :  "  He 
(Ames)  had  been  detained  from  the  House  during  the  early 
part  of  the  session,  by  an  access  of  that  disorder  which  made 
all  the  latter  part  of  his  life  one  long  disease.  Kising  from  his 
seat,  pale,  feeble,  hardly  able  to  stand  or  to  speak,  but  warm- 
ing with  the  subject,  he  delivered  a  speech  which,  for  compre- 
hensive knowledge  of  human  nature  and  of  the  springs  of  po- 
litical action,  for  caustic  ridicule,  keen  argument,  and  pathetic 
eloquence,  even  in  the  imperfect  shape  in  which  we  possess  it, 
has  very  seldom  been  equalled  on  that  or  any  other  floor." 
The  question  was  to  have  been  taken  that  same  day,  but  one 
of  the  opposition  moved  that  it  be  postponed  till  the  next,  that 
they  should  not  act  under  the  influence  of  an  excitement  of 
which  their  calm  judgment  might  not  approve. 

After  reducing  the  question  to  one  of  breaking  the  public 
faith,  the  speaker  adds  :  "  This,  sir,  is  a  cause  that  would 
be  dishonored  and  betrayed,  if  I  contented  myself  with  appeal- 
ing only  to  the  understanding.  It  is  too  cold,  and  its  pro- 
cesses are  too  slow  for  the  occasion.  I  desire  to  thank  God 
that,  since  he  has  given  me  an  intellect  so  fallible,  he  has  im- 
pressed upon  me  an  instinct  that  is  sure.  On  a  question  of 
shame  and  dishonor,  reasoning  is  sometimes  useless,  and  worse. 
I  feel  the  decision  in  my  pulse ;  if  it  throws  no  light  upon  the 
brain,  it  kindles  a  fire  at  the  heart."  It  is  the  spirit  that 
breathes  in  this  splendid  burSt  that  stirred  the  minds  of  the 
hearers,  wearied  and  disgusted  with  a  discussion  of  nearly  tw~ 
months,  so  that,  in  the  blunt  language  of  John  Adams — 


AMES. 


285 


"  there  wasn't  a  dry  eye  in  the  House,  except  some  of  the  jack- 
asses that  occasioned  the1  necessity  of  the  oratory." 

Ames's  speeches  show  great  clearness  of  mind  and  powei 
of  reasoning,  and  have  about  them  an  air  of  candor  that  in- 
duces conviction.  He  brought  to  every  subject  on  which  he 
was  to  speak,  that  thorough  understanding  of  it,  in  which,  if 
we  may  believe  Socrates,  lies  the  secret  of  all  eloquence.  It 
appears  to  have  been  customary  with  him  to  wait  till  a  ques- 
tion had  undergone  some  discussion,  that  he  might  the  better 
appreciate  the  arguments  on  both  sides.  He  would  then  rise, 
and  disperse,  as  with  the  wand  of  Prospero,  the  mists  of  pre- 
judice and  sophistry  that  had  gathered  over  the  question  in 
the  course  of  debate,  while  he  placed  the  subject  before  the 
House  with  convincing  eloquence  and  precision.  His  well-stored 
mind  poured  forth  illustrations  at  every  step,  and  his  imagina- 
tion illuminated  each  point  on  which  he  touched.  Now  and  then 
it  would  light  up  into  a  pure  and  steady  blaze  as  he  dwelt 
on  some  topic  that  stirred  his  deepest  emotions,  and  transfig- 
ured it  in  apt  and  nervous  language.  In  this  union  of  ima- 
gination and  feeling,  making  every  period  glow  with  life,  with 
logical  power,  Ames  resembled  Chatham. 

He  was  not  in  the  habit  of  trusting  to  notes,  but  used  to 
think  out  a  sketch  of  what  he  was  to  say,  and  trust  for  the 
rest  to  the  inspiration  of  the  occasion.  At  first  his  manner 
was  slow  and  hesitating,  like  one  in  reflection ;  but  as  he  went 
on,  his  thoughts  and  his  language  flowed  fast,  and  his  face 
beamed  with  expression.  We  have  heard  his  manner  charac- 
terized by  one  who  had  frequent  opportunities  of  hearing  him, 
in  the  words  of  Antenor's  description  of  Ulysses : 


286  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

"But  when  Ulyssus  rose,  in  thought  profound, 
His  modest  eyes  he  fixed  upon  the  ground, 
As  one  unskilled,  or  drunk,  he  seemed  to  stand, 
Nor  raised  his  head  nor  stretched  his  sceptred  hand; 
But  when  he  speaks,  what  elocution  flows ! 
Soft  as  the  fleeces  of  descending  snows, 
The  copious  accents  fall,  with  easy  art ; 
Melting  they  fall  and  sink  into  the  heart ! " 

His  voice  is  described  as  rich  and  melodious.  His  personal 
appearance  is  thus  given  by  Win  Sullivan :  "He  was  above 
middle  stature,  and  well-formed.  His  features  were  not 
strongly  marked.  His  forehead  was  neither  high  nor  expan- 
sive. His  eyes  blue,  and  of  middling  size  ;  his  mouth  hand- 
some ;  his  hair  was  black,  and  short  on  the  forehead,  and  in 
his  latter  years  unpowdered.  He  was  very  erect,  and  when 
speaking  he  raised  his  head  ;  or  rather  his  chin  was  the  most 
projected  part  of  his  face."  Before  a  jury  he  was  very  effec- 
tive. There  was  nothing  bitter  or  sarcastic  in  his  manner  ;  but 
mild,  cool,  and  candid,  it  made  a  jury,  as  we  heard  it  express- 
ed, "  want  to  give  him  the  case,  if  they  could/'  He  is  con- 
trasted with  his  friend  Samuel  Dexter,  as  preferring  to  illus- 
trate by  a  picture,  while  Dexter  would  explain  by  a  diagram. 

Mr.  Ames  was  the  author  of  the  "  Address  of  the  House 
of  Kepresentatives  to  Washington,"  on  his  signifying  his  in- 
tention to  withdraw  from  office.  His  own  health  had  been, 
and  was  still  so  feeble,  that  he  could  not  stand  for  re-election. 
Accordingly,  he  retired  to  Dedham  in  March,  1797,  intending 
to  devote  himself,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  practice  of  his  pro- 
fession and  the  enjoyment  of  domestic  happiness. 

In  July  1792,  Mr.  Ames  had  married  Miss  Worthington, 
of  Springfield.  This  marriage  was  an  exceedingly  happy  one. 
Mrs.  Ames  was  much  beloved  and  respected  by  her  neighbors, 


AMES. 


287 


and,  in  her  sphere,  was  considered  as  remarkable  as  her  hus- 
band. She  was  a  woman  of  gentle  and  retiring  disposition, 
devoted  to  her  family,  kind,  motherly  and  sensible.  Mr.  Ames 
seems  to  have  found  in  her  a  companion  who  called  forth  and 
appreciated  all  those  amiable  qualities  which  were  a  part  of 
his  character.  She  took  a  good  deal  of  interest  in  public  af- 
fairs, and  was  a  woman  of  cultivated  mind.  She  survived  her 
husband,  and  died  some  sixteen  years  since,  at  the  age  of 
seventy-four.  They  had  seven  children,  six  sons  and  a  daugh- 
ter. The  daughter  died  young  and  unmarried,  of  consump- 
tion. Three  of  the  sons  are  now  living,  one  in  Dedham,  one 
in  Cambridge,  and  another  somewhere  at  the  West.  All  the 
children  however  survived  their  father. 

Previous  to  his  marriage  Mr.  Ames  had  lived  with  his  mo- 
ther. After  that  event  he  moved  to  Boston  and  took  a  house 
on  Beacon  Street,  next  to  Governor  Bowdoin's.  He  appears 
to  have  lived  here  about  two  years,  when  he  returned  to  Ded- 
ham, and  began  the  building  of  a  new  house.  This  house 
was  finished  and  occupied  by  the  winter  of  1795  ;  during  the 
interval  Mr.  Ames  lived  in  a  house  opposite  the  old  mansion 
now  occupied  by  the  Dedham  Gazette.  This  new  house  of 
Ames's  is  still  standing  in  Dedham,  externally  much  the  same 
as  of  old ;  a  large  square-built,  two-story  house,  flat-roofed, 
simple  and  substantial.  Internally,  however,  together  witli 
the  ground  about  it,  it  has  undergone  many  alterations.  For- 
merly it  had  not  the  piazza  now  in  front  of  it,  and  the  various 
chimneys  were  then  represented  by  one  fat,  old-fashioned,  solid 
structure  in  the  middle.  It  passed  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
family  about  1835,  and  is  at  present  owned  by  Mr.  John 
Gardiner. 


288  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Mr.  Ames  seems  to  have  inherited  most  of  the  old  home- 
stead, to  the  extent  of  twenty-five  acres,  on  which  he  built  his 
house,  facing  the  south,  a  little  to  the  east,  and  back  of  his 
mother's.  He  employed  himself  a  good  deal  henceforth  in  the 
cultivation  of  his  farm.  The  "  Front  Lot "  was  surrounded 
with  a  rail  fence  and  a  row  of  Lombardy  poplars,  and  was  used 
at  different  times  as  a  mowing  lot,  a  cornfield,  and  a  pasture 
for  the  cows.  On  the  east  side  of  the  house,  extending  in 
length  from  the  street  to  the  river,  and  in  width  from  directly 
under  the  windows,  far  enough  to  include  a  street  and  a  row  of 
small  houses,  since  constructed,  was  a  pasture  and  orchard  in- 
cluding seven  or  eight  acres,  and  stocked  with  the  best 
fruit.  Directly  back  of  the  house  was  the  garden,  a  long  and 
rather  barren  strip  of  land,  of  peculiar  surface.  Two  straight 
walks  went  from  the  house  the  whole  length  of  it.  At  the 
farther  end  of  it  was  a  low  oval  space,  with  a  walk  running 
around  it,  and  a  pond  in  the  middle.  All  this  part  of  the 
garden  was  low,  and  surrounded  at  the  sides  and  end  with  a 
bank,  in  the  form  of  an  amphitheatre.  Three  or  four  terra- 
ces lay  between  it  and  the  higher  ground.  These  and  the 
oval  space  with  its  walk,  still  remain,  but  the  fence  between 
the  garden  and  the  orchard  has  been  removed,  and  the  two 
straight  walks  somewhat  changed,  to  suit  the  modern  appetite 
for  grace.  The  place  is  still  full  of  the  fruit-trees  that  Fisher 
Ames  planted,  some  crossgrained  pear-trees,  and  venerable  cher- 
ries being  the  chief.  The  boys  used  to  look  over  in  this  orchard 
and  garden,  at  the  big  pears,  weighing  down  the  trees  and 
covering  the  ground,  as  if  it  were  the  very  garden  of  the 
Hesperides,  and  the  dragon  were  asleep.  Once  in  a  while  the 
gates  would  be  thrown  open  to  these  hungry  longers,  and  they 


AMES. 


289 


helped  themselves  ;  when  winter  came  too  the  pond  afforded 
them  a  capital  skating  place.  A  large  shed  ran  out  from  the 
back  of  the  house,  on  the  west  end,  used,  among  other  purpo- 
ses, as  a  granary.  To  the  west  and  back  of  this,  was  the  barn 
of  the  old  house,  and  a  large  new  one  built  by  Mr.  Ames,  and 
behind  the  latter,  the  ice-house,  in  those  days  quite  a  novelty. 
Back  of  this  was  an  open  field.  Od  the  west  side  of  the  house, 
a  flight  of  steps  led  from  one  of  the  lower  windows  down  the 
bank,  with  an  old  pear-tree  growing  through  it. 

The  house  stood  about  two  rods  from  the  street ;  a  semi- 
elliptical  walk  led  up  to  the  door,  and  two  horse-chestnuts 
grew  in  the  yard.  There  were  but  few  trees  near  the  house, 
for  Mr.  Ames  liked  the  light  and  the  fresh  air.  He  planted  a 
great  many  shade  trees  however  on  the  street,  and  some  of  the 
fine  old  elms  about  the  common  were  set  out  with  his  own 
hands.  The  front  door  opened  into  a  large  room,  which  took 
up  the  whole  southwestern  end,  used  as  a  hall,  and  on  occa- 
sion of  those  large  dinner  parties  so  common  among  men  of 
Mr.  Ames's  class,  in  those  days,  as  a  dining-room.  At  such 
times  this  was  thrown  into  one  with  the  adjoining  front  room, 
a  large  apartment,  with  a  big  fireplace,  commonly  used  as  a 
parlor.  Back  of  this  was  the  library  overlooking  the  garden. 
The  southeastern  end  was  Mr.  Ames's  favorite  one.  His  cham- 
ber, that  in  which  he  died,  was  here,  on  the  second  story. 
Below  stairs,  was  a  cellar  kitchen,  and  a  dairy  ;  this  last  quite 
a  magnificent  matter,  with  marble  flagging,  and  ice  bestowed 
around  in  summer,  for  coolness. 

From  the  bank  at  the  end  of  the  garden,  Mr.  Ames's  land 
covered  with  fruit-trees,  sloped  gracefully  to  the  water. 
Charles  Kiver  is  here  only  twenty  or  thirty  feet  wide,  and  winds 


290  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

with  a  tranquil  current  through  a  narrow  meadow,  not  as 
broad,  but  brighter  and  clearer  than  where  at  Cambridge  it 
calls  forth  the  admiring  apostrophe  of  the  poet.  It  is  only  a 
short  way  below  this  where  Mother  Brook  issues  from  the 
Charles,  flowing  towards  the  east,  and  joining  it  with  the  Ne- 
ponset,  and  making  an  island  of  all  the  intervening  region, 
which  embraces  Boston,  Koxbury,  and  Dorchester.  This  sin- 
gular stream,  though  its  banks  are  wooded  with  venerable 
trees,  and  it  is  in  all  respects  like  one  of  nature's  own,  is  nev- 
ertheless an  artificial  course  of  water.  And  what  is  very  re- 
markable, it  was  constructed  by  the  Puritan  settlers,  only 
three  years  after  their  arrival  in  1639,  when  there  could  not 
have  been  a  hundred  men  in  the  place.  They  were  in  want 
of  a  flow  of  water  for  mill  purposes,  and  accordingly  dug  a 
canal  a  mile  in  length,  from  the  Charles  eastwardly.  Here  the 
land  descended,  and  the  water,  left  to  its  own  course,  wound 
in  graceful  curves  to  the  Neponset.  There  are  still  a  number 
of  mills  on  this  stream.  This  achievement  of  Young  America, 
considering  his  extreme  youth  at  the  time,  amounting  in  fact 
to  infancy,  was  not  unworthy  of  his  subsequent  exploits. 

After  returning  from  Congress,  Mr.  Ames  passed  a  life  of 
almost  unbroken  retirement.  In  1798  he  was  appointed  com- 
missioner to  the  Cherokees,  an  office  he  was  obliged  to  refuse. 
In  1800  he  was  a  member  of  the  Governor's  Council,  and  in 
the  same  year  delivered  a  eulogy  on  Washington,  before  the 
Legislature.  He  was  chosen  in  1805,  President  of  Harvard 
College,  but  ill  health,  and  a  disinclination  to  change  his 
habits  of  life,  led  him  to  decline  the  honor. 

He  had  also  resumed  the  practice  of  his  profession  with 
ardor,  but  the  state  of  his  health  compelled  him  gradually  to 


AMES. 


291 


drop  it ;  and  towards  the  close  of  his  life,  he  was  glad  to  throw 
it  aside  altogether.  Mr.  Ames  was  not  much  of  a  traveller, 
though  getting  back  and  forth  between  Dedham  and  Philadel- 
phia, which  he  used  to  do  in  his  own  conveyance,  was  no  small 
matter  in  those  days.  He  visited  among  his  acquaintances  in 
the  neighborhood,  at  Christopher  Gore's  in  Waltham,  at 
George  Cabot's  in  Brookline,  and  at  Salem,  where  Timothy 
Pickering  and  others  of  his  friends  resided.  He  was  also  in 
the  habit  of  driving  to  Boston  in  his  gig  two  or  three  times  a 
week,  when  his  health  permitted,  and  passing  the  day.  But 
he  took  few  long  journeys.  We  hear  of  him  at  Newport  in 
1*795,  in  Virginia  visiting  the  mineral  springs  for  his  health, 
in  the  following  year,  and  in  Connecticut  in  1800  ;  and  he 
speaks  in  one  of  his  letters  of  "jingling  his  bells  as  far  as 
Springfield  "  as  a  matter  of  common  occurrence.  His  wife's 
relations  lived  there,  among  others  the  husband  of  her  sister, 
Mr.  Thomas  Dwight,  at  whose  house  Mr.  Ames  was  a  fre- 
quent guest. 

Ames,  like  so  many  of  the  best  statesmen  of  that  time, 
and  of  all  time,  appears  to  have  always  had  a  relish  for 
farming.  In  a  letter  written  at  Philadelphia  in  1796,  while 
groaning  over  his  ill  health,  which  makes  him  "  the  survivor 
of  himself,  or  rather  the  troubled  ghost  of  a  politician  com- 
pelled to  haunt  the  field  of  battle  where  he  fell,"  he  says,  "  I 
almost  wish  Adams  was  here,  and  I  at  home  sorting  squash 
and  pumpkin  seeds  for  planting."  The  latter  part  of  the 
wish  was  soon  to  be  realized,  but  not  till  this  survivor  of  him- 
self had  outdone  all  the  efforts  of  his  former  life,  and  risen 
like  a  Phoenix  in  his  splendid  speech  on  the  Treaty.  He  fre- 
quently wrote  essays  on  agricultural  subjects,  and  into  many 


292         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

of  his  political  articles  similes  and  illustrations  found  their 
way,  smelling  of  the  farm.  He  had  an  especial  fondness  for 
raising  fruit  trees,  and  for  breeding  calves  and  pigs.  All  the 
best  kinds  of  fruit  were  found  in  his  orchard,  experiments 
were  tried  on  new  kinds  of  grass,  and  improvements  under- 
taken in  the  cultivation  of  crops.  A  piggery  was  attached  to 
the  barn,  conducted  on  scientific  principles,  and  furnished 
with  the  best  stock.  New  breeds  of  cattle  were  introduced, 
and  cows  were  kept  with  a  view  both  to  the  sale  of  milk,  and 
to  the  sale  of  their  young.  The  produce  of  the  farm  used  to 
be  sent  to  Boston  in  a  market  wagon.  For  the  carrying  on  of 
this  establishment,  Mr.  Ames  kept  some  half  a  dozen  men. 
He  himself  was  able  to  do  but  little  active  service.  His  dis- 
ease was  called  by  the  physicians  marasmus,  a  wasting  away 
of  the  vital  powers,  a  sort  of  consumption,  not  merely  of  the 
lungs,  but  of  the  stomach  and  every  thing  else.  This,  while  it 
produced  fits  of  languor  and  depression,  and  had  something  to 
do  probably  with  his  excessive  anxiety  on  political  subjects, 
never  seemed  to  take  from  the  cheerfulness  of  his  manners. 
He  was  obliged  to  practise  a  rigid  system  of  temperance,  and  to 
take  a  good  deal  of  exercise,  in  horseback  riding  and  other  ways. 
Besides  the  society  of  his  family,  a  constant  source  of  happi- 
ness, he  used  to  solace  himself  with  the  company  of  his  friends, 
with  writing  letters,  and  with  reading  his  favorite  authors. 
History  and  poetry  he  was  especially  fond  of.  Shakspeare, 
Milton,  and  Pope's  Homer  he  read  throughout  his  life,  and 
during  his  last  year,  re-read  Virgil,  Tacitus  and  Livy,  in  the 
original,  with  much  delight. 

His  friends  were  frequently  invited  out  to  partake  of  his 
"farmer's  fare,"  and  rare  occasions  those  must  have  been, 


AMES. 


293 


when  such  men  as  Theophilus  Parsons,  and  Pickering,  and 
Gore,  and  Samuel  Dexter,  and  George  Cabot  were  met  to- 
gether, with  now  and  then  one  from  a  greater  distance.  Ham- 
ilton or  Gouverneur  Morris,  or  Sedgwick,  or  Judge  Smith  ;  while 
at  the  head  of  the  table  sat  Fisher  Ames  himself,  delight- 
ing every  one  by  his  humor,  and  his  unrivalled  powers  of 
conversation.  In  conversation,  he  surpassed  all  the  men  of 
his  time  ;  even  Morris,  who  was  celebrated  as  a  talker,  used 
to  be  struck  quite  dumb  at  his  side.  His  quick  fancy  and  ex- 
uberant humor,  his  brilliant  power  of  expression,  his  acquaint- 
ance with  literature  and  affairs,  and  his  genial  and  sunny  dis- 
position, used  to  show  themselves  on  such  occasions  to 
perfection.  His  conversation,  like  his  letters,  was  mainly 
upon  political  topics,  though  now  and  then,  agriculture  or 
literature,  or  the  common  news  of  the  day  was  introduced. 
When  dining  once  with  some  Southern  gentlemen  in  Boston, 
General  Pinckney  among  the  number,  after  an  animated  con- 
versation at  the  table,  just  as  Ames  was  leaving  the  room, 
somebody  asked  him  a  question.  Ames  walked  on  until  he 
reached  the  door,  when,  turning  round  and  resting  his  elbow 
on  the  sideboard,  he  replied  in  a  strain  of  such  eloquence  and 
beauty  that  the  company  confessed  they  had  no  idea  of  his 
powers  before.  Judge  Smith,  his  room-mate  in  Philadelphia, 
stated,  that  when  he  was  so  sick  as  to  be  confined  to  his  bed, 
he  would  sometimes  get  up  and  converse  with  friends  who 
came  to  see  him,  by  the  hour,  and  then  go  back  to  his  bed 
completely  exhausted.  His  friends  in  Boston  used  to  seize 
upon  him  when  he  drove  in  town,  and  "  tire  him  down,"  as 
he  expressed  it,  so  that  when  he  got  back  to  Dedham,  he 
wanted  to  roll  like  a  tired  horse. 


294         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Ames  wrote  a  good  many  newspaper  essays.  This  was  a 
habit  which  he  always  kept  up,  particularly  after  his  retire- 
ment. About  1800,  on  the  election  of  Jefferson,  he  was  very 
active  in  starting  a  Federal  paper  in  Boston,  the  Palladium, 
and  wrote  for  it  constantly.  He  had  great  fears  for  his  coun- 
try from  the  predominance  of  French  influence,  and  deemed  it 
the  duty  of  a  patriot  to  enlighten  his  countrymen  on  the  char- 
acter and  tendency  of  political  measures.  His  biographer  in- 
forms us  that  these  essays  were  the  first  drafts,  and  they  appear 
as  such.  The  language  is  appropriate  and  often  very  felici- 
tous, but  they  are  diffuse  and  not  always  systematic.  There 
is  considerable  argument  in  them,  but  more  of  explanation, 
appeal  and  ornament.  He  wrote  to  set  facts  before  vthe  peo- 
ple, and  to  urge  them  to  vigilance  and  activity  ;  and  his  essays 
are  in  fact  so  many  written  addresses.  They  cost  him  no 
labor  in  their  composition,  being  on  subjects  that  he  was  con- 
stantly revolving  in  his  mind.  They  used  to  be  written  when- 
ever he  found  a  spare  moment  and  a  scrap  of  paper,  while 
stopping  at  a  tavern,  at  the  printing  office  in  Boston,  or  while 
waiting  for  his  horse  ;  and  are  apparently  expressed  just  as 
they  would  have  been  if  he  were  speaking  impromptu.  We 
have  heard  him  characterized  by  one  of  his  old  friends  as  es- 
sentially a  poet ;  but  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say,  that  he 
was  altogether  an  orator.  He  had  indeed  the  characteristics 
of  an  orator  in  a  rare  degree,  and  these  show  themselves  in 
every  thing  he  does.  While  his  mind  was  clear  and  his  pow- 
ers of  reasoning  were  exceedingly  good,  imagination,  the  in- 
stinctive perception  of  analogies,  and  feeling  predominated. 
His  writings  do  not  justify  his  fame  ;  yet  viewed  as  what  they 
really  are,  the  unlabored  transcripts  of  his  thoughts,  they  are 


AMES. 


295 


remarkable.  The  flow  of  language,  the  wit,  the  wealth  and 
aptness  of  illustration,  the  clearness  of  thought,  show  an  in- 
formed and  superior  mind.  They  have  here  and  there  pro- 
found observations,  that  show  an  acquaintance  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  government  and  with  the  human  heart,  and  are  full 
of  testimonials  to  the  purity  of  the  author's  patriotism,  and 
the  goodness  of  his  heart. 

Besides  the  essays  that  are  published  among  his  works,  he 
wrote  many  others  perhaps  equally  good,  as  well  as  numerous 
short,  keen  paragraphs,  adapted  to  the  time,  but  not  suitable 
for  republication.  He  also  wrote  verses  occasionally,  among 
others  "  an  Ode  by  Jefferson  "  to  the  ship  that  was  to  bring 
Tom  Paine  from  France,  in  imitation  of  Horace's  to  the  vessel 
that  was  to  bear  Virgil  from  Athens. 

He  wrote  a  great  many  letters,  and  it  is  in  these  that  we 
are  presented  with  the  finest  view  of  his  character.  They  are 
full  of  sensible  remarks  on  contemporary  news  and  events,  and 
sparkle  with  wit  of  that  slipshod  and  easy  sort,  most  delight- 
ful in  letters,  while  in  grace  of  style  they  surpass  most  of  the 
correspondence  of  that  period.  The  public  has  already  been 
informed  that  the  correspondence  of  Fisher  Ames,  together 
with  other  writings,  and  some  notice  of  his  life,  is  in  course  of 
publication  by  one  of  his  sons,  Mr.  Seth  Ames  of  Cambridge. 
But  few  of  his  letters  were  published  in  his  works,  as  issued 
in  1809  ;  a  few  more  appeared  in  Judge  Smith's  life,  and  some 
twenty  in  Gibbs's  "  Administration  of  Washington  and 
Adams,"  but  these  bear  but  a  very  small  proportion  to  his 
whole  correspondence.  Within  a  short  time  as  many  as  one 
hundred  and  fifty  letters  have  been  found  in  Springfield,  writ- 
ten to  Mr.  Dwight,  of  various  dates  from  1790  to  1807.  A 


296  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

large  number  are  said  to  have  disappeared,  that  were  in  the 
hands  of  George  Cabot,  and  some  were  burned  among  the 
papers  of  President  Kirkland.  For  a  delightful  specimen  of 
Mr.  Ames'  familiar  letters,  the  reader  is  referred  to  page  89  of 
that  capital  biography,  the  "  Life  of  Judge  Smith." 

Mr.  Ames  was  a  man  of  great  urbanity  among  his  neigh- 
bors. It  was  his  custom  to  converse  a  good  deal  with  ignorant 
persons  and  those  remote  from  civil  affairs.  He  was  desirous 
to  see  how  such  persons  looked  at  political  questions,  and  often 
found  means  in  this  way  of  correcting  his  own  views.  He 
was  a  great  favorite  among  the  servants,  and  used  to  sit  down 
in  the  kitchen  sometimes  and  talk  with  them. 

He  attended  the  Congregational  church  at  Dedham,  and 
took  a  good  deal  of  interest  in  its  affairs.  On  one  occasion  he 
invited  out  a  number  of  friends  to  attend  an  installation.  But 
about  1797,  on  the  minister's  insisting  upon  certain  high  Cal- 
vinistic  doctrines,  Mr.  Ames  left,  and  always  went,  after  that, 
to  the  Episcopal  church.  A  certain  good  old  orthodox  lady 
remarked  to  him  one  day,  after  he  left  their  church,  that  she 
supposed,  if  they  had  a  nice  new  meeting-house,  he  would  come 
back.  "No,  madam,"  rejoined  Ames,  "if  you  had  a  church 
of  silver,  and  were  to  line  it  with  gold,  and  give  me  the  best 
seat  in  it,  I  should  go  to  the  Episcopal."  Though  a  man  of 
strong  religious  feelings,  he  was  nothing  of  a  sectarian,  and 
did  not  fully  agree  with  the  Episcopal  views.  He  was  a  friend 
of  Dr.  Channing,  who  visited  him  in  his  last  illness,  and  he 
ought  probably  to  be  reckoned  in  the  same  class  of  Christians 
with  that  eminent  clergyman.  He  was  very  fond  of  the  Psalms, 
and  used  to  repeat  the  beautiful  hymn  of  Watts,  "  Up  to  the 
hills  I  lift  mine  eyes."    The  Christmas  of  1807,  the  year  be- 


AMES. 


297 


fore  his  death,  he  had  his  house  decked  with  green,  a  favorite 
custom  with  him. 

He  died  at  the  age  of  fifty,  on  the  fourth  of  July  1808,  at 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  leaving  to  his  family  a  comfortahle 
property.  The  news  of  his  death  was  carried  at  once  to  Bos- 
ton, and  Andrew  Ritchie,  the  city  orator  for  that  day,  alluded 
to  it  in  this  extempore  burst  :  "  But,  alas  !  the  immortal 
Ames,  who,  like  Ithuriel,  was  commissioned  to  discover  the  in- 
sidious foe,  has,  like  Ithuriel,  accomplished  his  embassy,  and 
on  this  morning  of  our  independence  has  ascended  to  Heaven. 
Spirit  of  Demosthenes,  couldst  thou  have  been  a  silent  and 
invisible  auditor,  how  wouldst  thou  have  been  delighted  to 
hear  from  his  hps,  those  strains  of  eloquence  which  once  from 
thine,  enchanted  the  assemblies  of  Greece  ! "  Ames'  friends 
in  Boston  requested  his  body  for  the  celebration  of  funeral 
rites.  It  was  attended  by  a  large  procession  from  the  house 
of  Christopher  Gore  to  King's  Chapel,  where  an  oration  was 
pronounced  by  Samuel  Dexter.  It  was  afterwards  deposited 
in  the  family  tomb  at  Dedham,  whence  it  was  removed  a  few 
years  since,  and  buried  by  the  side  of  his  wife  and  children. 
A  plain  white  monument  marks  the  spot,  in  the  old  Dedham 
grave-yard,  behind  the  Episcopal  church,  with  the  simple  in- 
scription "Fisher  Ames." 


1 0 1]  n     xxint  i  %  ir  a  m  s 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS  was  fortunate  in  the  home  of  his 
birth  and  childhood.  It  was  a  New  England  farm,  descended 
from  ancestors  who  were  never  so  poor  as  to  be  dependent  upon 
others,  nor  so  rich  as  to  be  exempted  from  dependence  upon 
themselves.  It  was  situated  in  the  town  of  Quincy,  then  the 
first  parish  of  the  town  of  Brain  tree,  and  the  oldest  permanent 
settlement  of  Massachusetts  proper.*  The  first  parish  became 
a  town  by  its  present  name,  twenty-five  years  after  the  birth 

*  It  is  supposed  that  the  State  derives  its  name  from  a  hill  in  the  north  part 
of  the  town,  situated  near  the  peninsula  called  Squantum,  likewise  a  part  of 


302 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


of  Mr.  Adams,  viz.  in  1792.  It  was  named  in  honor  of  John 
Quincy,  Mr.  Adams's  maternal  great-grandfather,  an  eminent 
man.  His  death,  and  the  transmission  of  his  name  to  his 
great-grandson,  are  thus  commemorated  by  the  latter  : 

"  He  was  dying  when  I  was  baptized,  and  his  daughter, 
my  grandmother,  present  at  my  birth,  requested  that  I  should 
receive  his  name.  The  fact,  recorded  by  my  father  at  the  time, 
has  connected  with  that  portion  of  my  name  a  charm  of  min- 
gled sensibility  and  devotion.  It  was  filial  tenderness  that 
gave  the  name.  It  was  the  name  of  one  passing  from  earth 
to  immortality.  It  has  been  to  me  a  perpetual  admonition  to 
do  nothing  unworthy  of  it." 

The  farm-house  stands  at  the  foot  of  an  eminence  called 
Penn's  Hill,  about  a  mile  south  of  Quincy  village.  It  is  an 
old-fashioned  dwelling,  having  a  two-story  front,  and  sloping  far 
away  to  a  single  one  in  the  rear.  This  style  is  peculiar  to  the 
early  descendants  of  the  Puritan  fathers  of  America.  Speci- 
mens are  becoming  rarer  every  year  ;  and  being  invariably 
built  of  wood,  must  soon  pass  away,  but  not  without  "  the 
tribute  of  a  sigh"  from  those,  who  associate  with  them  memo- 
ries of  the  wide  old  fireplaces,  huge  glowing  backlogs,  and  hos- 
pitable cheer. 

With  this  modest  material  environment  of  the  child,  was 

the  town.  Squantum  was  a  favorite  residence  of  the  Indians ;  and  the  Sachem, 
who  ruled  over  the  district  "extending  round  the  harbors  of  Boston  and 
Charlestown,  through  Maiden,  Chelsea,  Nantasket,  Hingham,  Weymouth  and 
Dorchester,"  had  his  seat  on  the  neighboring  hill,  which  was  shaped  like  an  ar- 
row-head. Arrow-head  in  the  Indian  language  was  mos  or  mous,  and  hill  toe- 
tnset.  Thus  the  great  Sachem's  home  was  called  Mosivctuset  or  Arrow-head 
Hill,  his  subjects  the  Moswetusets,  and  lastty  the  Province  Massachusetts,  but 
frequently  in  the  primitive  days  "the  Massachusetts." 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


303 


coupled  an  intellectual  and  moral,  which  was  golden.  His 
father,  the  illustrious  John  Adams,  was  bred,  and  in  his  youth 
labored,  on  the  farm.  At  the  birth  of  his  son,  he  was  still  a 
young  man,  being  just  turned  of  thirty,  but  ripe  both  in  gen- 
eral and  professional  knowledge,  and  already  recognized  as  one 
of  the  ablest  counsellors  and  most  powerful  pleaders  at  the  bar 
of  the  province. 

The  mother  of  John  Quincy  Adams  was  worthy  to  be  the 
companion  and  counsellor  of  the  statesman  just  described. 
By  reason  of  slender  health  she  never  attended  a  school.  As 
to  the  general  education  allowed  to  girls  at  that  day,  she  tells 
us  that  it  was  limited  "  in  the  best  families  to  writing,  arith- 
metic, and,  in  rare  instances,  music  and  dancing  and  that 
"  it  was  fashionable  to  ridicule  female  learning."  From  her 
father,  a  clergyman,  from  her  mother,  a  daughter  of  John 
Quincy,  and  above  all  from  her  grandmother,  his  wife,  she  de- 
rived liberal  lessons  and  salutary  examples.  Thus  her  educa- 
tion was  entirely  domestic  and  social.  Perhaps  it  was  the 
better  for  the  absence  of  that  absorbing  passion  of  the  schools, 
which  for  the  most  part  rests  as  well  satisfied  with  negative 
elevation  by  the  failure  of  another,  as  with  positive  elevation 
by  the  improvement  of  one's  self.  The  excellent  and  pleas- 
ant volume  of  her  letters,  which  has  gone  through  several 
editions,  indicates  much  historical,  scriptural,  and  especially 
poetical  and  ethical  culture.  In  propriety,  ease,  vivacity  and 
grace,  they  compare  not  unfavorably  with  the  best  epistolary 
collections  ;  and  in  constant  good  sense,  and  occasional  depth 
and  eloquence,  no  letter-writer  can  be  named  as  her  superior. 
To  her  only  daughter,  mother  of  the  late  Mrs.  De  Wint,  she 
wrote  concerning  the  influence  of  her  grandmother  as  follows  : 


304        HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  the  excellent  lessons  which  I  received 
from  my  grandmother,  at  a  very  early  period  of  life.  I 
frequently  think  they  made  a  more  durable  impression  upon 
my  mind  than  those  which  I  received  from  my  own  parents. 
Whether  it  was  owing  to  a  happy  method  of  mixing  instruc- 
tion and  amusement  together,  or  from  an  inflexible  adherence 
to  certain  principles,  which  I  could  not  but  see  and  approve 
when  a  child,  I  know  not ;  but  maturer  years  have  made  them 
oracles  of  wisdom  to  me.  Her  lively,  cheerful  disposition  ani- 
mated all  around  her,  whilst  she  edified  all  by  her  unaffected 
piety.  I  cherish  her  memory  with  a  holy  veneration,  whose 
maxims  I  have  treasured,  whose  virtues  five  in  my  remem- 
brance— happy  if  I  could  say  they  have  been  transplanted 
into  my  life." 

The  concluding  aspiration  was  more  than  realized,  because 
Mrs.  Adams  lived  more  than  the  fortunate  subject  of  her  eu- 
logy, and  more  than  any  American  woman  of  her  time.  She 
was  cheerful,  pious,  compassionate,  discriminating,  just  and 
courageous  up  to  the  demand  of  the  times.  She  was  a  calm 
adviser,  a  zealous  assistant,  and  a  never  failing  consolation  of 
her  partner,  in  all  his  labors  and  anxieties,  public  and  private, 
That  the  laborers  might  be  spared  for  the  army,  she  was  wil- 
ling to  work  in  the  field.  Diligent,  frugal,  industrious  and 
indefatigable  in  the  arrangement  and  details  of  the  household 
and  the  farm,  the  entire  management  of  which  devolved  upon 
her  for  a  series  of  years,  she  preserved  for  him  amidst  general 
depreciation  and  loss  of  property,  an  independence,  upon  which 
he  could  always  count  and  at  last  retire.  At  the  same  time 
she  responded  to  the  numerous  calls  of  humanity,  irrespective 
of  opinions  and  parties.    If  there  was  a  patriot  of  the  Kevo- 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


305 


lution  who  merited  the  title  of  Washington  of  women,  she 
was  the  one. 

It  is  gratifying  to  know  that  this  rare  combination  of  vir- 
tue and  endowments  met  with  a  just  appreciation  from  her 
great  husband.  In  his  autobiography,  written  at  a  late  period 
of  life,  he  records  this  touching  testimony,  that  "  his  connec- 
tion with  her  had  been  the  source  of  all  his  felicity,"  and  his 
unavoidable  separations  from  her,  "of  all  the  griefs  of  his 
heart,  and  all  that  he  esteemed  real  afflictions  in  his  life." 
Throughout  the  two  volumes  of  letters  to  her,  embracing  a 
period  of  twenty-seven  years,  the  lover  is  more  conspicuous 
than  the  statesman  ;  and  she  on  her  part  regarded  him  with 
an  affection  unchangeable  and  ever  fresh  during  more  than  half 
a  century  of  married  life.  On  one  of  the  anniversaries  of  her 
wedding  she  wrote  from  Braintree  to  him  in  Europe  : 

"  Look  at  this  date  and  tell  me  what  are  the  thoughts 
which  arise  in  your  mind.  Do  you  not  recollect  that  eighteen 
years  have  run  their  circuit,  since  we  pledged  our  mutual 
faith,  and  the  hymeneal  torch  was  lighted  at  the  altar  of 
love  ?  Yet,  yet  it  burns  with  unabating  fervor.  Old  ocean 
cannot  quench  it ;  old  Time  cannot  smother  it  in  this  bosom. 
It  cheers  me  in  the  lonely  hour." 

The  homely  place  at  Penn's  Hill  was  thrice  ennobled,  twice 
as  the  birth-place  of  two  noble  men — noble  before  they  were 
Presidents  ;  and  thirdly  as  the  successful  rival  of  the  palaces 
inhabited  by  its  proprietors  at  the  most  splendid  courts  of  Eu- 
rope, which  never  for  a  moment  supplanted  it  in  their  affec- 
tions. Mrs.  Adams  wrote  often  from  Paris  and  London  in  this 
strain  :  "  My  humble  cottage  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  has  more 
charms  for  me  than  the  drawing-room  of  St.  James;"  and 


306  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

John  Adams  still  oftener  thus:  "I  had  rather  build  wall  on 
Penn's  Hill  than  be  the  first  prince  of  Europe,  or  the  first 
general  or  first  senator  of  America." 

Such  were  the  hearts  that  unfolded  the  childhood  of  John 
Quincy  Adams. 

Of  all  the  things  which  grace  or  deform  the  early  home, 
the  principles,  aims  and  efforts  of  the  parents  in  conducting  the 
education  of  the  child  are  the  most  important  to  both.  The 
mutual  letters  of  the  parents,  in  the  present  case,  contain  such 
wise  and  patriotic  precepts,  such  sagacious  methods,  such  ear- 
nest and  tender  persuasions  to  the  acquisition  of  all  virtue, 
knowledge,  aits  and  accomplishments,  that  can  purify  and 
exalt  the  human  character,  that  they  would  form  a  valuable 
manual  for  the  training  of  true  men  and  purer  patriots. 

Although  the  spot  which  has  been  mentioned  was  John 
Quincy  Adams's  principal  home  until  he  was  nearly  eleven,  yet 
he  resided  at  two  different  intervals,  within  that  time,  four  or 
five  years  in  Boston  ;  his  father's  professional  business  at  one 
time,  and  his  failing  health  at  another,  rendering  the  alterna- 
tion necessary.  The  first  Boston  residence  was  the  White 
House,  so  called,  in  Brattle-street.  In  front  of  this  a  British 
regiment  was  exercised  every  morning  by  Major  Small,  during 
the  fall  and  winter  of  1768,  to  the  no  little  annoyance  of  the 
tenant.  But  says  he,  "  in  the  evening,  I  was  soothed  by  the 
sweet  songs,  violins  and  flutes  of  the  serenading  Sons  of  Lib- 
erty." The  family  returned  to  Braintree  in  the  spring  of  1771. 
In  November,  1772,  they  again  removed  to  Boston,  and  occu- 
pied a  house  which  John  Adams  had  purchased  in  Queen  (now 
Court)  street,  in  which  he  also  kept  his  office.  From  this  issued 
state  papers  and  appeals,  which  did  not  a  little  to  fix  the 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


307 


destiny  of  the  country.  The  ground  of  that  house  has  descend- 
ed to  Charles  Francis  Adams,  his  grandson.  In  1774  Penn's 
Hill  became  the  permanent  home  of  the  family,  although  John 
Adams  continued  his  orifice  in  Boston,  attended  by  students  at 
law,  until  it  was  broken  up  by  the  event  of  April  19th,  1775. 

Soon  after  the  final  return  to  Quincy,  we  begin  to  have 
a  personal  acquaintance  with  the  boy,  now  seven  years  old. 
Mrs.  Adams  writes  to  her  husband,  then  attending  the  Con- 
gress in  Philadelphia : 

"  I  have  taken  a  very  great  fondness  for  reading  Kollin's 
Ancient  History  since  you  left  me.  I  am  determined  to  go 
through  with  it,  if  possible,  in  these  my  days  of  solitude.  I 
find  great  pleasure  and  entertainment  from  it,  and  I  have  per- 
suaded J ohnny  to  read  me  a  page  or  two  every  day,  and  hope  he 
will,  from  a  desire  to  oblige  me,  entertain  a  fondness  for  it." 

In  the  same  year  the  first  mention  is  made  of  his  regular 
attendance  upon  a  teacher.  The  person  selected  in  that  ca- 
pacity was  a  young  man  named  Thaxter,  a  student  at  law, 
transferred  from  the  office  in  Boston,  to  the  family  in  Quincy. 
The  boy  seems  to  have  been  very  much  attached  to  him.  Mrs. 
Adams  assigned  the  following  reasons  for  preferring  this  ar- 
rangement to  the  public  town  school. 

"  I  am  certain  that  if  he  does  not  get  so  much  good,  he 
gets  less  harm  ;  and  I  have  always  thought  it  of  very  great  im- 
portance that  children  should  be  unaccustomed  to  such  exam- 
ples as  would  tend  to  corrupt  the  purity  of  their  words  and 
actions,  that  they  may  chill  with  horror  at  the  sound  of  an 
oath,  and  blush  with  indignation  at  an  obscene  expression." 

This  furnishes  a  pleasing  coincidence  with  a  precept  of 
ancient  prudence  : — 


308  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Let  nothing  foul  in  speech  or  act  intrude, 
"Where  reverend  childhood  i9. 

There  is  no  disapprobation  of  public  schools  to  be  inferred 
from  this.  These  are  indispensable  for  the  general  good  ;  but 
if  from  this  narrative  a  hint  should  be  taken  for  making  them 
more  and  more  pure,  and  worthy  of  their  saving  mission,  such 
an  incident  will  be  welcome. 

Of  the  next  memorable  year  we  have  a  reminiscence  from 
himself.  It  was  related  in  a  speech  at  Pittsfield,  Massachu- 
setts, in  1843. 

"  In  1775  the  minute  men,  from  a  hundred  towns  in  the 
Provinces,  were  marching  to  the  scenes  of  the  opening  war. 
Many  of  them  called  at  our  house,  and  received  the  hospitality 
of  John  Adams.  All  were  lodged  in  the  house  whom  the  house 
would  contain,  others  in  the  barns,  and  wherever  they  could 
find  a  place.  There  were  then  in  my  father's  house  some  dozen 
or  two  of  pewter  spoons  ;  and  I  well  recollect  seeing  some  of 
the  men  engaged  in  running  those  spoons  into  bullets.  Do 
you  wonder  that  a  boy  of  seven  years  of  age,  who  witnessed 
these  scenes,  should  be  a  patriot  ?" 

He  saw  from  Penn's  Hill  the  flames  of  Charlestown,  and 
heard  the  guns  of  Bunker  Hill  and  Dorchester  Heights. 

In  one  of  her  letters  from  France,  Mrs.  Adams  remarks 
that  he  was  generally  taken  to  be  older  than  his  sister  (about 
two  years  older  than  he),  because  he  usually  conversed  with 
persons  older  than  himself — a  remarkable  proof  of  a  constant 
aim  at  improvement,  of  a  wise  discernment  of  the  means,  and 
of  the  maturity  of  acquisitions  already  made.  Edward  Ever- 
ett remarks  in  his  eulogy,  that  such  a  stage  as  boyhood  seems 
not  to  have  been  in  the  life  of  J  ohn  Quincy  Adams.  While 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


309 


he  was  under  ten,  he  wrote  to  his  father  the  earliest  produc- 
tion of  his  pen  which  has  been  given  to  the  public.  It  is  found 
in  Governor  Seward's  Memoir  of  his  life,  and  was  addressed  to 
his  father. 

Braintree,  June  2d,  117*7. 

Dear  Sir  : — I  love  to  receive  letters  very  well,  much  better 
than  I  love  to  write  them.  I  make  but  a  poor  figure  at  com- 
position. My  head  is  much  too  fickle.  My  mind  is  running- 
after  bird's  eggs,  play  and  trifles,  till  I  get  vexed  with  myself. 
Mamma  has  a  troublesome  task  to  keep  me  a  studying.  I 
own  I  am  ashamed  of  myself.  I  have  but  just  entered  the 
third  volume  of  Rollin's  History,  but  I  designed  to  have  got 
half  thro'  it  by  this  time.  I  am  determined  this  week  to  be 
more  diligent.  Mr.  Thaxter  is  absent  at  Court.  I  have  set 
myself  a  stent  this  week  to  read  the  third  volume  half  out. 
If  I  can  keep  my  resolution,  I  may  again,  at  the  end  of  a  week, 
give  a  better  account  of  myself.  I  wish,  sir,  you  would  give 
me  in  writing  some  instructions  in  regard  to  the  use  of  my 
time,  and  advise  me  how  to  proportion  my  studies  and  play, 
and  I  will  keep  them  by  me,  and  endeavor  to  follow  them. 

With  the  present  determination  of  growing  better,  I  am, 
dear  sir,  your  son,  JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 

P.  S.  Sir,  if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  favor  me  with  a  blank- 
book,  I  will  transcribe  the  most  remarkable  passages  I  meet 
with  in  my  reading,  which  will  serve  to  fix  them  on  my 
mind. 

Soon  after  the  evacuation  of  Boston  by  Lord  Howe,  Mrs. 
Adams  announces  that  "  Johnny  has  become  post-rider  from 
Boston  to  Braintree."    The  distance  was  nine  miles,  and  he 


310         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

was  nine  years  old.  In  this  hardy  enterprise,  and  in  the  fore- 
going letter,  we  may  mark  the  strong  hold  which  the  favorite 
maxims  of  the  parents  had  taken  of  their  child's  mind.  Among 
those  maxims  were  these  : 

To  begin  composition  very  early  by  writing  descriptions  of 
natural  objects,  as  a  storm,  a  country  residence  ;  or  narrative 
of  events,  as  a  walk,  ride,  or  the  transactions  of  a  day. 

To  transcribe  the  best  passages  from  the  best  writers  in 
the  course  of  reading,  as  a  means  of  forming  the  style  as  well 
as  storing  the  memory.  * 

To  cultivate  spirit  and  hardihood,  activity  and  power  of 
endurance. 

Soon  after  this,  the  lad  ceased  to  have  a  home  except  in 
the  bosom  of  affection,  and  that  was  a  divided  one.  On  the 
13th  of  February,  1778,  he  embarked  for  France  with  his 
father,  who  had  been  appointed  a  commissioner,  jointly  with 
Dr.  Franklin  and  Arthur  Lee,  to  negotiate  treaties  of  alliance 
and  commerce  with  that  country.  From  the  place  of  embar- 
cation  his  father  wrote  :  "  Johnny  sends  his  duty  to  his  mamma, 
and  love  to  his  sister  and  brothers.    He  behaves  like  a  man." 

When  they  arrived  in  France,  after  escaping  extraordinary 
perils  at  sea,  they  found  the  treaty  of  alliance  already  conclud- 
ed. The  son  was  put  to  school  in  Paris,  and  gave  his  father 
"  great  satisfaction,  both  by  his  assiduity  to  his  books  and  his 
discreet  behavior/'  all  which  the  father  lovingly  attributes  to 
the  lessons  of  the  mother.  He  calls  the  boy  "  the  joy  of  his 
heart." 

He  was  permitted  to  tarry  but  three  months,  when  he  was 
commissioned  to  negotiate  treaties  of  independence,  peace,  and 
commerce  with  Great  Britain.    He  embarked  for  France  in  the 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


311 


month  of  November,  accompanied  by  Francis  Dana  as  secretary 
of  legation,  and  by  his  two  oldest  sons,  John  and  Charles.'' 
The  vessel  sprung  a  leak  and  was  compelled  to  put  into 
the  nearest  port,  which  proved  to  be  Ferrol,  where  they  landed 
safe  December  seventh.  One  of  the  first  things  was  to  buy  a 
dictionary  and  grammar  for  the  boys,  who  "  went  to  learning 
Spanish  as  fast  as  possible."  Over  high  mountains,  by  rough 
and  miry  roads,  a-muleback,  and  in  the  depth  of  winter,  they 
wound  their  toilsome  way,  much  of  the  time  on  foot,  from 
Ferrol  to  Paris,  a  journey  of  a  thousand  miles,  arriving  about 
the  middle  of  February,  1780.  On  this  occasion,  it  is  to  be 
presumed,  Master  Johnny  must  have  derived  no  small  bene- 
fit from  the  service  he  had  seen  as  "  post-rider." 

At  Paris  he  immediately  entered  an  academy,  but  in  the 
autumn  accompanied  his  father  to  Holland,  who  had  received 
superadded  commissions  to  negotiate  private  loans,  and  public 
treaties  there.  For  a  few  months  the  son  was  sent  to  a  com- 
mon school  in  Amsterdam,  but  in  December  he  was  removed 
to  Leyden,  to  learn  Latin  and  Greek  under  the  distinguished 
teachers  there,  and  to  attend  the  lectures  of  celebrated  profes- 
sors in  the  University.  The  reasons  of  this  transfer  are  worth 
repeating,  as  they  mark  the  strong  and  habitual  aversion 
which  John  Adams  felt  and  inculcated,  to  every  species  of 
littleness  and  meanness. 

"  I  should  not  wish  to  have  children  educated  in  the  com- 
mon schools  of  this  country,  where  a  littleness  of  soul  is  noto- 
rious. The  masters  are  mean-spirited  wretches,  pinching, 
kicking  and  boxing  the  children  upon  every  turn.    There  is  a 

*  Died  early  in  the  city  of  New-York,  soon  after  entering  upon  the  practice 
of  law. 


312  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

general  littleness,  arising  from  the  incessant  contemplation  of 
stivers  and  doits.  Frugality  and  industry  are  virtues  every 
where,  but  avarice  and  stinginess  are  not  frugality." 

In  July,  1781,  the  son  accompanied  to  St.  Petersburg^ 
Mr.  Francis  Dana,  who  had  been  appointed  Minister  Plenipo- 
tentiary to  the  court  of  Russia.  The  original  purpose  was 
study,  observation,  and  general  improvement,  under  the  guid- 
ance of  a  trusty  and  accomplished  friend.  The  youth  was 
not,  as  has  been  stated,  appointed  secretary  of  the  Minister 
at  the  time  they  started  ;  but  by  his  readiness  and  capability 
he  came  to  be  employed  by  Mr.  Dana  as  interpreter  and  secre- 
tary, difficult  and  delicate  trusts,  probably  never  before  confided 
to  a  boy  of  thirteen. 

In  October,  1782,  the  youth  left  St.  Petersburgh,  and  pay- 
ing passing  visits  to  Sweden,  Denmark,  Hamburg,  and  Bre- 
men, reached  the  Hague  in  April,  1783,  and  there  resumed  his 
studies.  Meantime  his  father,  having  received  assurances  that 
Great  Britain  was  prepared  to  treat  for  peace  on  the  basis  of 
independence,  had  repaired  to  Paris  to  open  the  negotiation. 
He  found  that  Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  Jay,  two  of  his  colleagues 
on  the  same  commission,  had  commenced  the  business  first 
with  informal  agents,  and  afterwards  with  a  commissioner  of  his 
majesty,  George  the  Third.  The  Definitive  Treaty  was  signed 
September  the  third,  1783,  at  which  act  John  Quincy  Adams 
was  summoned  by  his  father  to  be  present,  and  to  assume 
the  duties  of  secretary.  In  that  capacity  he  made  one  of  the 
copies  of  the  treaty.  The  father  on  this  occasion  wrote  :  "  Con- 
gress are  at  such  grievous  expense  that  I  shall  have  no  other 
secretary  but  my  son.  He,  however,  is  a  very  good  one.  He 
writes  a  good  hand  very  fast,  and  is  steady  at  his  pen  and  books." 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


313 


In  this  autumn  the  two  made  a  trip  to  London,  partly  for 
the  health  of  the  elder,  which  had  been  seriously  impaired  by 
incessant  labor,  and  partly  for  the  benefit  of  the  younger,  as 
it  was  expected  then  that  both  would  bid  adieu  to  Europe  and 
embark  for  America  in  the  ensuing  spring.  John  Adams  had 
the  satisfaction  of  hearing  the  King  announce  to  the  Parlia- 
ment and  people  from  the  throne,  that  he  had  concluded  a 
Treaty  of  Peace  with  the  United  States  of  America. 

In  January,  1784,  the  father  and  son  proceeded  to  Holland 
to  negotiate  a  new  loan  for  the  purpose  of  meeting  the  inter- 
est on  the  former  one.  There  they  remained  until  the  latter 
part  of  July,  when  a  letter  came  communicating  the  arrival 
of  Mrs.  Adams  and  her  daughter  in  London.  J ohn  Adams 
despatched  his  son  to  meet  them,  and  wrote  to  his  wife  : 

"  Your  letter  of  the  twenty-third  has  made  me  the  hap- 
piest man  upon  earth.  I  am  twenty  years  younger  than  I 
was  yesterday.  It  is  a  cruel  mortification  to  me  that  I  can- 
not go  to  meet  you  in  London  ;  but  there  are  a  variety  of 
reasons  decisively  against  it,  which  I  will  communicate  to  you 
here.  Meantime  I  send  you  a  son,  who  is  one  of  the  greatest 
travellers  of  his  age,  and  without  partiality,  I  think  as  prom- 
ising and  manly  a  youth,  as  is  in  the  whole  world.  He  will 
purchase  a  coach,  in  which  we  four  must  travel  to  Paris  ;  let  it 
be  large  and  strong.  After  spending  a  week  or  two  here  you  will 
have  to  set  out  with  me  for  France,  but  there  are  no  seas  be- 
tween ;  a  good  road,  a  fine  season,  and  we  will  make  moderate 
journeys,  and  see  the  curiosities  of  several  cities  in  our  way, — 
Utrecht,  Breda,  Antwerp,  Brussels,  &c.  &c.  It  is  the  first  time 
in  Europe  that  I  looked  forward  to  a  journey  with  pleasure. 
Now  I  expect  a  reat  deal.  I  think  myself  made  for  this  world." 


314 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


John  Quincy  Adams  reached  London  the  thirtieth  of  July. 
"  When  he  entered/'  says  Mrs.  Adams,  "  we  had  so  many 
strangers  that  I  drew  back,  not  really  believing  my  eyes,  till 
he  cried  out,  £  0  my  mamma,  and  my  dear  sister  ! '  Nothing 
but  the  eyes  appeared  what  he  once  was.  His  appearance  is 
that  of  a  man,  and  in  his  countenance  the  most  perfect  good- 
humor.  His  conversation  by  no  means  denies  his  station.  I 
think  you  do  not  approve  the  word  feelings.  I  know  not  what 
to  substitute  in  lieu,  nor  how  to  describe  mine/'  The  son  was 
then  seventeen,  and  the  separation  had  continued  nearly  five 
years. 

Notwithstanding  that  the  husband's  letter  had  forbidden 
hope  of  his  participating  in  this  re-union,  he  did  so  after  all, 
practising  a  surprise  charmingly  delicate  and  gallant.  It  was 
a  blissful  meeting  not  only  of  happy  friends,  but  of  merit  and 
reward,  a  beautiful  and  honorable  consummation  of  mutual 
sacrifices  and  toils.    Seldom  does  the  cup  of  joy  so  effervesce. 

Independence  predicted  in  youth,  moved  and  sustained 
with  unrivalled  eloquence  in  manhood,  at  home — confirmed 
and  consolidated  by  loans,  alliances,  ships,  and  troops — obtain- 
ed, in  part  or  all,  by  him,  abroad — Washington  nominated 
Chief  of  the  army — the  American  Navy  created — peace  ne- 
gotiated— this,  this  (if  civic  virtues  and  achievments  were 
honored  only  equally  with  martial)  would  have  been  the  cir- 
cle of  Golden  Medals,  which  John  Adams  might  have  laid  at 
the  feet  of  his  admirable  wife  ! 

Five  months  after  this,  as  if  too  full  for  earlier  utterance, 
she  wrote  to  her  sister  :  "  You  will  chide  me,  perhaps,  for  not 
relating  to  you  an  event  which  took  place  in  London,  that  of 
unexpectedly  meeting  my  long  absent  friend  ;  for  from  his  let- 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


315 


ters  by  my  son,  I  had  no  idea  that  he  would  come.  But  you 
know,  my  dear  sister,  that  poets  and  painters  wisely  draw  a 
veil  over  scenes  which  surpass  the  pen  of  the  one  and  the  pen- 
cil of  the  other." 

The  family  reached  Paris  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  and 
established  their  residence  at  Auteuil,  four  miles  from  the  city. 
The  son  pursued  his  studies,  his  mother,  by  his  particular 
desire,  writing  her  charming  letters  to  American  friends  by  his 
fireside.  Sometimes  he  copied  them  in  his  plain  and  beautiful 
hand,  always  equal  to  print,  and  made  her  think,  as  she  gayly 
remarks,  that  they  were  really  worth  something.  The  circle 
of  familiar  visitors  included  Franklin,  Jefferson  and  his  daugh- 
ter, La  Fayette  and  his  wife  ;  of  formal,  all  the  ministers  do- 
mestic and  foreign,  and  as  many  of  the  elite  of  fashion  and 
of  fame  as  they  chose.  But  Mrs.  Adams  was  always  a  modest 
and  retiring  woman.  Of  Franklin  she  wrote  :  "  His  character, 
from  my  infancy,  I  had  been  taught  to  venerate.  I  found  him 
social,  not  talkative  ;  and  when  he  spoke,  something  useful 
dropped  from  his  tongue." 

Of  Jefferson,  "  I  shall  really  regret  to  leave  Mr.  Jefferson. 
He  is  one  of  the  choice  ones  of  the  earth.  On  Thursday  I 
dine  with  him  at  Ins  house.  On  Sunday  he  is  to  dine  with  us. 
On  Monday  we  all  dine  with  the  Marquis." 

In  the  spring  of  1785  John  Adams  received  the  appoint- 
ment of  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  Great  Britain,  the  first 
from  the  United  States  of  America.  A  new  separation  ensued. 
He,  his  wife  and  daughter  departed  for  London,  but  not  the 
son,  as  has  been  stated.  He  departed  for  Harvard  University, 
where,  in  the  following  March,  he  entered  the  Junior  Class,  and 
graduated  with  distinguished  honor  in  1787.    He  studied  law 


316  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

at  Newburyport  in  the  office  of  Theophilus  Parsons,  afterwards 
the  eminent  Chief  J ustice.  He  entered  upon  the  practice  of 
the  law  in  Boston  in  1790,  and  boarded  in  the  family  of  Dr. 
Thomas  Welsh.  He  continued  thus  four  years,  gradually  en- 
larging the  circle  of  his  business  and  the  amount  of  his  income. 
Meantime,  great  and  exciting  public  questions  arose,  and  in 
discussing  them  he  obtained  a  sudden  and  wide  distinction. 
A  tract  from  his  pen  in  answer  to  a  portion  of  Paine' s  Rights 
of  Man,  and  expressing  doubts  of  the  ultimate  success  of  the 
French  Revolution,  appeared  in  1791,  was  republished  in 
England  and  attributed  to  John  Adams.  This  was  at  a  time 
when  the  enthusiasm  for  the  great  French  movement  was  at 
its  height  in  this  country.  Events  too  soon  showed  that  the 
writer  had  inherited  his  father's  sagacity. 

Another  publication  of  his,  which  appeared  in  1793,  main- 
tained the  right,  duty  and  policy  of  our  assuming  a  neu- 
tral attitude  towards  the  respective  combatants  in  the  wars 
arising  from  the  French  Revolution.  This  publication  pre- 
ceded Washington's  Proclamation  of  Neutrality.  In  the  same 
year  Mr.  Adams  reviewed  the  course  of  Genet,  applying  to  it 
and  the  condition  of  the  country  the  principles  of  public  law. 

These  writings  attracted  the  attention  of  Washington,  and 
he  is  supposed  to  have  derived  essential  aid  from  them  in  some 
of  the  most  difficult  conjunctures  of  his  administration.  Upon 
the  recommendation  of  Jefferson,  made  as  he  was  about  to 
retire  from  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State,  Washington  deter- 
mined to  appoint  John  Quincy  Adams  Minister  Resident  in 
Holland.  An  intimation  from  Washington  to  the  Vice-Presi- 
dent, in  order  that  he  might  give  his  wife  timely  notice  to 
prepare  for  the  departure  of  her  son,  was  the  first  knowledge 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


317 


that  any  member  of  the  family  had,  that  such  an  appointment 
was  thought  of.  Mr.  Adams  repaired  to  his  post,  and  remained 
there  till  near  the  close  of  Washington's  administration,  with 
the  exception  of  an  additional  mission  to  London  in  1795,  to 
exchange  ratifications  of  Jay's  treaty,  and  agree  upon  certain 
arrangements  for  its  execution. 

On  this  occasion  he  met,  at  the  house  of  her  father,  the 
American  consul  in  London,  Miss  Louisa  Catherine  John- 
son, who  afterwards  became  his  wife.  In  consequence  of  a 
rumor  of  his  intending  to  resign,  Washington  wrote  to  the 
Vice-President : 

"  Your  son  must  not  think  of  retiring  from  the  path  he  is 
in.  His  prospects,  if  he  pursues  it,  are  fair  ;  and  I  shall  be 
much  surprised,  if,  in  as  short  a  time  as  can  well  be  expected, 
he  is  not  at  the  head  of  the  Diplomatic  Corps,  be  the  govern- 
ment administered  by  whomsoever  it  may." 

Subsequently  Washington  expressed  himself  still  more 
strongly,  aiming  to  overcome  the  scruples  of  President  Adams 
about  cantinuing  his  son  in  office  under  his  own  administration. 
J ust  before  his  retirement,  Washington  appointed  him  Minister 
Plenipotentiary  to  Portugal.  This  destination  was  changed 
by  his  father  to  Berlin.  Before  assuming  the  station,  he  was 
married  in  London  to  Miss  Johnson. 

While  in  Prussia  he  negotiated  an  important  commercial 
treaty,  and  wrote  letters  from  Silesia,  which  were  published  in 
the  portfolio,  and  passed  through  some  editions  and  translations 
in  Europe.  In  1801  he  was  recalled  by  his  father,  to  save, 
as  it  is  said,  Mr.  Jefferson  from  the  awkwardness  of  turning- 
out  the  son  of  his  old  friend,  whose  appointment  he  had  re- 
commended.   If  such  was  the  motive  of  the  recall,  it  was  a 


318  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

miscalculation,  for  Jefferson  did  not  hesitate  to  remove  him 
from  the  small  office  of  commissioner  of  bankruptcy,  to  which 
he  had  been  appointed  by  the  district  judge  of  Massachusetts 
upon  his  return  from  abroad.  Mr.  Jefferson  defended  himself 
from  censure  for  this  little  act,  by  alleging  that  he  did  not 
know  when  he  made  the  removal,  nor  who  the  incumbent  of 
the  office  was  ;  an  excuse  more  inexcusable  than  the  act  itself. 

Mr.  Adams  re-established  himself  with  his  family  in  Bos- 
ton. He  occupied  a  house  in  Hanover-street,  not  now  stand- 
ing, and  another  which  he  purchased  at  the  corner  of  Tremont 
and  Boylston  streets,  now  used  for  stores,  and  owned  by  his 
only  surviving  son. 

In  1802  he  was  elected  to  the  Senate  of  Massachusetts 
from  Suffolk  county. 

In  1803,  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States. 

In  1806,  Professor  of  Khetoric  and  Oratory  in  Harvard 
University,  but  in  subordination  to  his  duties  in  Congress. 

In  1808  he  resigned  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  the  Legisla- 
ture of  his  State  having  instructed  him  to  oppose  the  restric- 
tive measures  of  Jefferson,  and  he  having  given  a  zealous 
support  to  the  embargo. 

In  1809  he  was  appointed  by  Madison  Minister  Plenipoten- 
tiary to  Kussia  ;  and  resigned  his  professorship  in  the  University. 

In  1811  he  was  nominated  by  Madison  and  unanimously 
confirmed  by  the  Senate,  as  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  United  States.  Mr.  Adams  having  declined  this  office, 
Judge  Story  was  appointed. 

In  1814  he  was  appointed  first  commissioner  at  Ghent  to 
treat  with  Great  Britain  for  peace. 

In  1815,  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  Great  Britain. 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


319 


In  1817,  Secretary  of  State. 

In  1825,  elected  President  of  the  United  States. 

Mr.  Adams,  released  from  the  toils  of  thirty-five  years  of 
unintermitted  public  service,  now  sought  a  home  which  re- 
mains to  be  described. 

John  Adams,  while  yet  minister  in  England,  purchased  a 
seat  in  Quincy  of  Mr.  Borland,  an  old  friend  and  neighbor, 
descended  from  the  Vassals,  a  considerable  family  in  the  town 
and  province  :  this  was  in  1786.  On  his  return  from  Europe 
in  1788,  the  purchaser  took  possession  with  his  family  ;  and 
with  the  exception  of  two  terms  as  Vice-President,  and  one  as 
President  of  the  United  States,  he  never  left  it  until  his  death 
on  the  fourth  of  July,  1826.  This  estate  descended  to  his 
son,  as  did  also  that  at  Penn's  Hill. 

It  is  situated  about  half  a  mile  north  of  Quincy  village,  on 
the  old  Boston  road,  where  massive  mile-stones,  erected  before 
the  birth  of  J ohn  Adams,  may  still  be  seen.  The  farm  con- 
sists of  one  hundred  acres,  now  productive,  though  in  a  rude 
state  when  acquired.  Mrs.  John  Adams  described  her  hus- 
band in  1801  as  "  busy  among  his  haymakers,  and  getting 
thirty  tons  on  the  spot,  which  eight  years  before  yielded  only 
six." 

The  house  is  supposed  to  be  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old. 
It  is  built  of  wood,  quite  unpretending,  yet  from  association 
or  other  cause,  it  has  a  distinguished  and  venerable  aspect.  Ap- 
proached from  the  north  or  city  side,  it  presents  a  sharp  gable 
in  the  old  English  style  of  architecture.  The  opposite  end  is 
very  different,  and  has  a  hipped  or  gambrel  gable.  The 
length  may  be  some  seventy  feet,  the  height  thirty,  consisting 
of  two  stories,  and  a  suit  of  attic  chambers,  with  large  lu- 


320         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

thern  windows.  A  piazza  runs  along  the  centre  of  the  base- 
ment in  front.  The  south  or  gambrel-roofed  section  of  the 
edifice,  was  built  by  John  Adams.  The  principal  entrance  is 
at  the  junction  of  this  section  with  the  main  building.  It 
opens  into  a  spacious  entry  with  a  staircase  on  the  right,  and 
busts  of  Washington  and  John  Quincy  Adams  on  the  left.  At 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  is  the  door  of  the  principal  apartment, 
called  the  Long  Koom.  It  is  plainly  finished,  and  about  seven 
feet  in  height.  It  contains  portraits  of  John  Adams  and  his 
wife  by  Stewart,  John  Quincy  Adams  and  his  wife  by  the 
same  ;  Thomas  Jefferson  in  French  costume,  taken  in  France 
by  Browne.  He  appears  much  handsomer  than  in  most  of 
his  portraits.  Over  the  fireplace  is  a  very  old  and  curious 
picture  of  a  child,  supposed  by  John  Quincy  Adams  to  be  his 
great-grandfather,  John  Quincy.  There  are  several  other  por- 
traits of  less  note.  The  chairs  are  of  plain  mahogany,  with 
stuffed  seats  and  backs,  and  hair-cloth  coverings.  They  be- 
longed to  Mrs.  Adams.  Opposite  to  the  door  of  this  room,  on 
the  left  side  of  the  entry,  is  the  door  of  the  dining-room,  call- 
ed the  Middle  Koom.  This  is  within  the  original  building. 
It  contains  a  number  of  portraits  ;  the  most  conspicuous  is 
that  of  Washington  in  his  uniform.  It  was  painted  by  Savage, 
and  was  purchased  by  the  elder  Adams.  It  has  a  more  sol- 
emn and  concentrated  look  than  Stewart's  Washington — more 
expressive,  but  not  so  symmetrical.  It  resembles  Peale's 
Pater  Patriae.  John  Quincy  Adams  considered  it  a  better 
likeness  than  the  popular  portraits.  It  is  said  to  have  been 
taken  when  Washington  had  lost  his  teeth,  and  had  not  sub* 
stituted  artificial  ones.  The  lips  appear  much  compressed,  the 
visage  elongated  and  thinner  than  in  Stewart's  picture.  By 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


321 


its  side  is  Mrs.  Washington,  painted  by  the  same  artist.  There 
is  a  fine  engraving  of  Copley's  picture  of  the  Death  of  Chat- 
ham. It  is  a  proof  copy,  presented  by  the  painter  to  John 
Adams.  Passing  from  the  Middle  Boom  through  another  but 
small  front  entry,  we  reach  the  north  basement  room,  called 
the  Keeping  Koom.  This  is  finished  with  considerable  luxury 
for  a  provincial  parlor  of  its  time.  It  is  panelled  from  floor 
to  ceiling  with  mahogany.  The  effect  is  somewhat  heavy,  to 
obviate  which  the  elder  Mrs.  Adams,  a  votary  of  all  cheerful- 
ness, had  it  painted  white.  It  has  now  been  restored,  and 
presents  an  antique  and  rich  appearance.  Nearly  all  the  fur- 
niture of  this  as  well  as  the  Middle  Room,  including  the  Tur- 
key carpet  of  the  latter,  still  bright  and  substantial,  was  John 
Adams's.  All  these  apartments  are  connected  by  a  longitu- 
dinal passage  in  the  rear,  which  communicates  with  the 
kitchen. 

The  Library  is  in  the  second  story  over  the  Long  Room. 
This  chamber  was  constantly  occupied  by  the  Elder  President, 
both  for  a  sitting  and  sleeping  room  during  his  latter  years. 
Here  the  writer  saw  him  at  the  age  of  nearly  ninety,  delighted 
with  hearing  Scott's  novels,  or  Dupuis'  Origine  de  tous  les 
Cultes,  or  the  simplest  story-book,  which  he  could  get  his 
grandchildren  to  read  to  him.  He  seemed  very  cheerful,  and 
ready  to  depart,  remarking  that  "  he  had  eat  his  cake."  When 
his  son  came  home  from  Washington,  he  converted  this  room 
into  a  library.  Of  course  his  books  are  very  miscellaneous 
both  as  to  subjects  and  languages  ;  but  they  are  not  all  here. 
Some  are  arranged  on  the  sides  of  passage-ways  and  in  other 
parts.  A  portion  of  them  compose  in  part  a  library  at  his 
son's  town  residence.    John  Adams  in  his  lifetime  gave  his 


322 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


library — a  very  valuable  one — to  the  town  of  Quincy,  together 
with  several  tracts  of  land  for  the  erection  of  an  academy  or 
classical  school,  to  which  his  library  is  ultimately  to  attach. 
The  entire  library  of  John  Quincy  Adams  comprises  twelve 
thousand  volumes.  To  this  must  be  added  a  chest  full  of 
manuscripts,  original  and  translated,  in  prose  and  poetry. 
They  show  unbounded  industry.  From  his  boyhood  to  the  age 
of  fifty,  when  he  took  the  Department  of  State,  he  was  an 
intense  student.  In  this  chest  are  many  of  the  earlier  fruits, 
such  as  complete  versions  of  a  large  number  of  the  classics,  of 
German  and  other  foreign  works. 

The  garden  lies  on  the  north,  contiguous  to  the  house,  and 
connects  with  a  lawn,  narrow  in  front  of  the  house,  but  widening 
considerably  south  of  it.  The  whole  is  inclosed  on  the  road- 
side by  a  solid  wall  of  Quincy  granite,  some  six  feet  high,  except 
the  section  immediately  before  the  house,  which  is  a  low  stone 
wall,  surmounted  by  a  light  wooden  fence  of  an  obsolete  fashion, 
with  two  gates  in  the  same  style,  leading  to  the  two  front 
doors.  The  whole  extent  does  not  much  exceed  an  acre.  It 
embraces  an  ornamental  and  kitchen  garden,  the  former  occu- 
pying the  side  near  the  road,  and  the  latter  extending  by  the 
side  and  beyond  the  kitchen  and  offices  to  an  open  meadow 
and  orchard.  The  principal  walk  is  through  the  ornamental 
portion  of  the  garden,  parallel  with  the  road,  and  terminates 
at  a  border  of  thrifty  forest  trees,  disposed,  as  they  should  be, 
without  any  regard  to  order.  From  the  walk  above-mentioned 
another  strikes  out  at  a  right  angle,  and  skirts  the  border  of 
trees,  till  it  disappears  in  the  expanse  of  meadow.  Most  of 
the  trees  were  raised  by  J ohn  Quincy  Adams  from  the  seeds, 
which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  picking  up  in  his  wanderings. 


JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  323 

The  most  particular  interest  attaches  to  a  shagbark,  which  he 
planted  more  than  fifty  years  ago.  It  stands  near  the  angle 
of  the  two  alleys.  In  this  tree  he  took  a  particular  satisfaction, 
hut  he  was  an  enthusiast  in  regard  to  all  the  trees  of  the 
forest,  differing  in  this  respect  from  his  father,  who,  as  an  agri- 
culturist of  the  Cato  stamp,  was  more  inclined  to  lay  the  axe 
to  them  than  to  propagate  them.  From  this  plantation  Charles 
Francis  Adams  was  supplied  with  a  great  number  and  variety 
of  trees  to  embellish  a  residence,  which  he  built  in  his  father's 
lifetime  on  the  summit  of  a  high  hill,  west  of  the  old  mansion. 
This  is  called  President's  Hill.  It  affords  one  of  the  finest 
sea  landscapes  which  can  be  found.  John  Adams  used  to  say 
that  he  had  never  seen,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  so  fine  a  view. 
It  comprises  a  wide  range  of  bays,  islands  and  channels  seaward, 
with  seats  and  villages  on  the  intervening  land.  This  prospect 
lies  eastward,  and  includes  Mount  Wollaston,  situated  near  the 
seashore,  and  remarkable  as  the  first  spot  settled  in  the  town 
and  State,  and  as  giving  its  name  for  many  of  the  first  years 
to  the  entire  settlement.  This  belonged  to  the  great-grand- 
father, John  Quincy,  and  is  now  a  part  of  the  Adams  estate. 

The  meeting-house  is  half  a  mile  south  of  the  old  mansion. 
The  material  is  granite,  a  donation  of  John  Adams.  It  has  a 
handsome  portico,  supported  by  beautiful  and  massive  Doric 
pillars,  not  an  unfit  emblem  of  the  donor.  Beneath  the  porch, 
his  son  constructed,  in  the  most  durable  manner,  a  crypt,  in 
which  he  piously  deposited  the  remains  of  his  parents  ;  and  in 
the  body  of  the  church,  on  the  right  of  the  pulpit,  he  erected 
to  their  sacred  memories  a  marble  monument  surmounted  by 
a  bust  of  John  Adams,  and  inscribed  with  an  affecting  and 
noble  epitaph. 


324         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

After  leading  "  a  wandering  life  about  the  world,"  as  he 
himself  calls  it — a  life  of  many  changes  and  many  labors,  John 
Quincy  Adams,  at  sixty-two,  sought  the  quiet  and  seclusion  of 
his  father's  house.  He  was  yet,  for  his  years,  a  model  of  physical 
vigor  and  activity ;  for,  though  by  nature  convivial  as  his  fathei 
was,  and  capable,  on  an  occasion,  of  some  extra  glasses,  he 
was  by  habit  moderate  in  meat  and  drink,  never  eating  more 
than  was  first  served  on  his  plate,  and  consequently  never 
mixing  a  variety  of  dishes.  He  used  himself  to  attribute  much 
of  the  high  health  he  enjoyed  to  his  walks  and  his  baths. 
Early  every  morning,  when  the  season  admitted,  he  sought  a 
place  where  he  could  take  a  plunge  and  swim  at  large.  A 
creek,  with  a  wharf  or  pier  projecting  into  it,  called  Black's 
Wharf,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  his  house,  served  these 
purposes  in  Quincy.  At  Washington  he  resorted  to  the  broad 
Potomac.  There,  leaving  his  apparel  in  charge  of  an  attend- 
ant, (for  it  is  said  that  it  was  once  purloined  !)  he  used  to 
buffet  the  waves  before  sunrise.  He  was  an  easy  and  expert 
swimmer,  and  delighted  so  much  in  the  element,  that  he  would 
swim  and  float  from  one  to  two  or  three  hours  at  a  time.  An 
absurd  story  obtained  currency,  that  he  used  this  exercise  in 
winter,  breaking  the  ice,  if  necessary,  to  get  the  indispensable 
plunge  !  This  was  fiction.  He  did  not  bathe  at  all  in  winter, 
nor  at  other  times  from  theory,  but  for  pleasure. 

He  bore  abstinence  and  irregularity  in  his  meals  with 
singular  indifference.  Whether  he  breakfasted  at  seven  or 
ten,  whether  he  dined  at  two,  or  not  at  all,  appeared  to  be 
questions  with  which  he  did  not  concern  himself.  It  is  related 
that  having  sat  in  the  House  of  Kepresentatives  from  eight 
o'clock  in  the  momino;  till  after  midnisrht,  a  friend  accosted 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


325 


him,  and  expressed  the  hope  that  he  had  taken  refreshment  in 
all  that  time  ;  he  replied  that  he  had  not  left  his  seat,  and  held 
up  a  bit  of  hard  bread.  His  entertainments  of  his  friends  were 
distinguished  for  abundance,  order,  elegance,  and  the  utmost 
perfection  in  every  particular,  but  not  for  extravagance  and 
luxury  of  table  furniture.  His  accomplished  lady,  of  course, 
had  much  to  do  with  this.  He  rose  very  early,  lighting  the 
fire  and  his  lamp  in  his  library,  while  the  surrounding  world 
was  yet  buried  in  slumber.  This  was  his  time  for  writing. 
Washington  and  Hamilton  had  the  same  habit. 

He  was  unostentatious  and  almost  always  walked,  whether 
for  visiting,  business  or  exercise.  At  Quincy  he  used  to  go  up 
President's  Hill  to  meet  the  sun  from  the  sea,  and  sometimes 
walked  to  the  residence  of  his  son  in  Boston  before  breakfast. 
Kegularly,  before  the  hour  of  the  daily  sessions  of  Congress, 
he  was  seen  wending  his  quiet  way  towards  the  Capitol,  seldom 
or  never  using,  in  the  worst  of  weather,  a  carriage.  He  stayed 
one  night  to  a  late  hour,  listening  to  a  debate  in  the  Senate 
on  the  expunging  resolution.  As  he  was  starting  for  home 
in  the  face  of  a  fierce  snow-storm,  and  in  snow  a  foot  deep,  a 
gentleman  proposed  to  conduct  him  to  his  house.  "  I  thank 
you,  sir,  for  your  kindness,"  said  he,  "  but  I  do  not  need  the 
service  of  any  one.  I  am  somewhat  advanced  in  life,  but  not 
yet,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  infirm,  or  what  Dr.  Johnson  would 
call c  superfluous  and  you  may  recollect  what  old  Adam  says 
in  '  As  you  Like  it' — 

"  'For  in  my  youth  I  never  did  apply 
Hot  and  rebellious  liquors  in  my  blood.'" 

While  he  was  President,  the  writer  was  once  sitting  in  the 


326         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

drawing-room  of  a  highbred  lady  in  Boston.  A  hat  not  very- 
new  glanced  under  the  window  sill.  The  owner  rung  at  the 
door,  and  not  rinding  the  gentleman  at  home,  continued  his 
walk.  A  servant  entered  and  presented  the  card  of  John 
Quincy  Adams.  "I  do  wonder/'  exclaimed  the  lady,  "  that 
the  President  of  the  United  States  will  go  about  in  such  a 
manner  \" 

His  apparel  was  always  plain,  scrupulously  neat,  and 
reasonably -well  worn.  It  was  made  for  the  comfort  of  the 
wearer,  who  asked  not  of  the  fashions. 

When  he  retired  from  the  Presidency,  he  resolved  to  pass 
the  remainder  of  his  days  under  the  paternal  roof  and  the 
beloved  shades.  He  anticipated  and  desired  nothing  but  quiet, 
animated  by  the  excitements  of  intellectual  and  rural  occupa- 
tions. He  had  before  him  the  congenial  task,  to  which  he  had 
long  aspired,  of  dispensing  the  treasures  of  wisdom  contained 
in  the  unwritten  life  and  unpublished  writings  of  his  father. 
He  was  ready  to  impart  of  his  own  inexhaustible  wealth  of 
experience,  observation  and  erudition,  to  any  one  capable  of 
receiving.  It  takes  much  to  reconcile  a  thoughtful  mind  to 
the  loss  of  what  would  have  been  gained  by  the  proposed 
employment  of  his  leisure.    And  we  had  much. 

Had  the  record  of  his  public  life,  ample  and  honorable  as 
it  was,  been  now  closed,  those  pages  on  which  patriots,  philan- 
thropists and  poets  will  for  ever  dwell  with  gratitude  and 
delight,  would  have  been  wanting.  Hitherto  he  had  done 
remarkably  well  what  many  others,  with  a  knowledge  of  pre- 
cedents and  of  routine  and  with  habits  of  industry,  might  have 
done,  if  rot  as  well,  yet  acceptably.  He  was  now  called  to  do 
what  no  other  man  in  the  Kepublic  had  strength  and  heart  to 
attempt. 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


327 


He  was  endowed  with  a  memory  uncommonly  retentive.  He 
could  remember  and  quote  with  precision,  works  which  he  had 
not  looked  at  for  forty  years.  Add  to  this  his  untiring  diligence 
and  perseverance,  and  the  advantages  of  his  position  and  em- 
ployment at  various  capitals  in  the  old  world,  and  the  story  of 
his  vast  acquisitions  is  told.  His  love  lay  in  history,  literature, 
moral  philosophy  and  public  law.  With  the  Greek,  Latin, 
French,  German,  and  Italian  languages  and  principal  writers 
he  was  familiar.  His  favorite  English  poet  was  Shakspeare, 
whom  he  commented  upon  and  recited  with  discrimination  and 
force,  surpassing,  it  is  said,  in  justness  of  conception,  the  great 
personators  of  his  principal  characters.  Among  the  classics,  he 
especially  loved  Ovid,  unquestionably  the  Shakspeare  of  the 
Komans.  Cicero  was  greatly  beloved,  and  most  diligently 
studied,  translated,  and  commented  upon.  For  many  of  his 
latter  years  he  never  read  continuously.  He  would  fall  asleep 
over  his  book.  But  to  elucidate  any  subject  he  had  in  hand, 
he  wielded  his  library  with  wakefulness  and  execution  lively 
enough. 

He  was  fond  of  art  in  all  its  departments,  but  most  in  the 
pictorial.  In  his  "  Eesidence  at  the  Court  of  London,"  Mr. 
Kush  has  drawn  an  attractive  sketch  of  him  at  home. 

"  His  tastes  were  all  refined.  Literature  and  art  were  fa- 
miliar and  dear  to  him.  At  his  hospitable  board  I  have  listen- 
ed to  disquisitions  from  his  lips,  on  poetry,  especially  the 
dramas  of  Shakspeare,  music,  painting  and  sculpture,  of  rare 
excellence  and  untiring  interest.  A  critical  scholar  in  the 
dead  languages,  in  French,  German  and  Italian,  he  could 
draw  at  will  from  the  wealth  of  these  tongues  to  illustrate  any 
particular  topic.    There  was  no  fine  painting  or  statue,  of 


328  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

which  he  did  not  know  the  details  and  the  history.  There 
was  not  even  an  opera,  or  a  celebrated  composer,  of  which  or 
of  whom  he  could  not  point  out  the  distinguishing  merits 
and  the  chief  compositions.  Yet  he  was  a  hard-working  and 
assiduous  man  of  business  ;  and  a  more  regular,  punctual,  and 
comprehensive  diplomatic  correspondence  than  his,  no  country 
can  probably  boast." 

Mr.  Adams  was  generally  regarded  as  cold  and  austere. 
The  testimony  of  persons  who  enjoyed  an  intimacy  with  him 
is  the  reverse  of  this.  Mr.  Kush  says  that  "  under  an  exterior 
of  at  times  repulsive  coldness,  dwelt  a  heart  as  warm,  sympa- 
thies as  quick,  and  affections  as  overflowing  as  ever  animated 
any  bosom/'  And  Mr.  Everett,  that  "  in  real  kindness  and 
tenderness  of  feeling,  no  man  surpassed  him."  There  is  an 
abundance  of  like  evidence  on  this  head. 

He  was  taciturn  rather  than  talkative,  preferring  to  think 
and  to  muse.  At  times  his  nature  craved  converse,  and  de- 
lighted in  the  play  of  familiar  chat.  Occasionally  he  threw 
out  a  lure  to  debate.  If  great  principles  were  seriously  called 
in  question,  he  would  pour  out  a  rapid  and  uninterrupted 
torrent. 

The  poets  had  been  the  delight  of  his  youth.  He  read 
them  in  the  intervals  of  retirement  at  Quincy  with  a  youthful 
enthusiasm,  and  tears  and  laughter  came  by  turns,  as  their  sad 
and  bright  visions  passed  before  him.  Pope  was  a  favorite,  "  and 
the  intonations  of  his  voice  in  repeating  the  e  Messiah/  "  says 
an  inmate  of  the  family,  "  will  never  cease  to  vibrate  on  the 
ear  of  memory."  He  was  a  deeply  religious  man,  and  though 
not  taking  the  most  unprejudiced  views  of  divinity,  what  he 
received  as  spiritual  truths  were  to  him  most  evident  and  mo- 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


329 


mentous  realities,  and  lie  derived  from  them  a  purifying  and 
invigorating  power.  "  The  dying  Christian's  Address  to  his 
Soul "  was  replete  with  pathos  and  beauty  for  him.  He  is  re- 
membered to  have  repeated  it  one  evening  with  an  intense  ex- 
pression of  religious  faith  and  joy  ;  adding  the  Latin  lines  of 
Adrian,  winch  Pope  imitated.  He  was  thought  by  some  to 
have  a  tendency  to  Calvinistic  theology,  and  to  regard  Unita- 
rianism  as  too  abstract  and  frigid.  Thus  he  used  sometimes 
to  talk,  but  it  was  supposed  to  be  for  the  purpose  of  putting 
Unitarians  upon  a  defence  of  their  faith,  rather  than  with  a  se- 
rious design  to  impair  it. 

On  one  occasion  he  conversed  on  the  subject  of  popular 
applause  and  admiration.  Its  caprice,  said  he,  is  equalled 
only  by  its  worthlessness,  and  the  misery  of  that  being 
who  lives  on  its  breath.  There  is  one  stanza  of  Thomson's 
Castle  of  Indolence,  that  is  worth  whole  volumes  of  modern 
poetry  ;  though  it  is  the  fashion  to  speak  contemptuously  of 
Thomson.  He  then  repeated  with  startling  force  of  manner 
and  energy  of  enunciation,  the  third  stanza,  second  canto,  of 
that  poem. 

"  I  care  not,  fortune,  what  you  me  deny ; 
You  cannot  rob  me  of  free  nature's  grace, 
You  cannot  shut  the  windows  of  the  sky, 
Through  which  Aurora  shows  her  brightening  face  ; 
You  cannot  bar  my  constant  feet  to  trace 
The  woods  and  lawns  by  living  streams  at  eve : 
Let  health  my  nerves  and  finer  fibres  brace, 
And  I  their  toys  to  the  great  children  leave ; 
Of  Fancy,  Reason,  Virtue,  nought  can  me  bereave." 

He  did  not  much  admire  the  poetry  of  Byron, 
jection  which  he  is  recollected  to  have  made  to  the 


One  ob- 
poet  was 


330         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

the  use  of  the  word  "  rot/'  There  is  some  peculiarity  in  By- 
ron in  this  respect ;  thus  in  Childe  Harold  : — 

"The  Bucentaur  lies  rotting  unrestored, 
Where  meaner  relics  must  not  dare  to  rot." 

This,  if  a  sound  objection,  which  it  is  not,  was  narrow  for 
so  great  a  man.  The  cause  of  this  distaste  lay  deeper.  Mr. 
Adams,  though  a  dear  lover  of  Shakspeare,  was  of  the  John- 
sonian school  of  writers.  His  diction  is  elaborate,  stately,  and  in 
Iris  earlier  writings  verbose,  but  always  polished,  harmonious,  and 
sustained.  He  liked  unconsciously  Latin  English  better  than 
Anglo-Saxon.  Byron,  in  common  with  a  large  and  increasing 
class  of  moderns,  loved  to  borrow  the  force  of  familiar  and 
every-day  language,  and  to  lend  to  it  the  dignity  and  beauty 
of  deep  thought  and  high  poetic  fancy.  Not  improbably,  the 
moral  obliquities  of  the  poet  had  their  influence  in  qualifying 
the  opinion  formed  of  his  writings,  by  a  man  of  such  strict 
rectitude  as  Mr.  Adams. 

He  was  fond  of  Watts's  Psalms  and  Hymns,  and  repeated 
them  often,  sometimes  rising  from  his  seat  in  the  exaltation  of 
his  feelings.    Among  favorite  stanzas  was  this  one  : 

Sweet  fields,  beyond  the  swelling  flood, 

Stand  dressed  in  living  green  ; 
So  to  the  Jews  old  Canaan  stood, 

While  Jordan  rolled  between. 

Until  his  private  letters  shall  be  published,  no  adequate 
conception  can  be  formed  of  the  devotion  he  paid  to  his  mother. 
This  may  give  an  inkling  of  it.  A  young  friend  inquired  of 
him,  when  he  was  once  at  Hingham  on  their  annual  fishing 
party  in  his  honor,  in  which  of  his  poems  a  certain  line  was  to 
be  found,  viz. — 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


331 


"  Hull — but  that  name's  redeemed  upon  the  wave," 

referring  to  the  surrender  of  General  Hull,  so  soon  followed 
(only  three  days  after,  August  16 — 19,  1812)  by  the  capture 
of  the  Guerriere  by  Captain  Hull.  "  I  do  not,"  he  replied, 
"  but  I  have  been  often  struck  by  the  coincidence.  I  think, 
however,  the  line  occurs  in  a  poem  addressed  to  my  mother!' 

The  best  saying  of  Mr.  Adams  was  in  reply  to  the  inquiry, 
What  are  the  recognized  principles  of  politics  ? 

Mr.  Adams.  There  are  none.  There  are  recognized  pre- 
cepts, but  they  are  bad,  and  so  not  principles. 

But  is  not  this  a  sound  one,  "  The  greatest  good  of  the 
greatest  number  ?" 

Mr.  Adams.  No,  that  is  the  worst  of  all,  for  it  looks 
specious,  while  it  is  ruinous  ;  for  what  is  to  become  of  the  mi- 
nority ?  This  is  the  only  principle — The  greatest  good  of  all. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  much  tyranny  lurks  in  this 
favorite  democratic  tenet,  not  half  as  democratic,  however,  as 
Mr.  Adams's  amendment.  Wrongs  and  outrages  the  most 
unmerciful,  have  been  committed  by  majorities.  It  may  even 
happen  where  the  forms  of  law  are  maintained  ;  but  what  shall 
be  said  when  the  majority  resolves  itself  into  a  mob  ?  When 
rivers  of  innocent  blood  may  (as  they  have)  run  from  city  gates. 
The  tyranny  of  majorities  is  irresponsible,  without  redress,  and 
without  punishment,  except  in  the  ultimate  iron  grasp  of  "the 
higher  law." 

Mr.  Adams's  view,  so  much  larger  than  the  common  one, 
may,  with  a  strong  probability,  be  traced  to  the  mother.  In 
her  letters  to  him,  she  insists  again  and  again  upon  the  duty 
of  universal  kindness  and  benevolence.  Patriot  as  she  was, 
she  pitied  the  Kefugees.    She  said  to  him, 


332  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

"  Man  is  bound  to  the  performance  of  certain  duties,  all 
which  tend  to  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  society,  and  are 
comprised  in  one  short  sentence  expressive  of  universal  benevo- 
lence :  c  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself/ 

u  '  Remember  more,  the  Universal  Cause 
Acts  not  by  partial,  but  by  general  laws ; 
And  makes  what  happiness  we  justly  call, 
Subsist,  not  in  the  good  of  one,  but  all.'  " 

In  other  letters  she  illustrated  observations  in  the  same 
spirit  by  these  quotations  : 

"  Shall  I  determine  where  his  frowns  shall  fall, 
And  fence  my  grotto  from  the  lot  of  all  ?" 

"  Prompt  at  every  call, 
Can  watch  and  weep  and  pray  and  feel  for  all." 

One  evening,  at  his  house  in  F  street  in  Washington,  he 
spoke  of  Judge  Parsons,  of  his  depth  and  subtlety,  and  the 
conciseness  of  his  language.  "  Soon  after  I  entered  his  office 
he  said  to  us  students — '  Lord  Bacon  observes  that  "  reading 
makes  a  full  man,  conversation  a  ready  man,  writing  a  correct 
man."  Young  gentlemen,  my  advice  to  you  is,  that  you  study 
to  be  full,  ready  and  correct/  I  thought,"  said  Mr.  Adams, 
"  that  I  never  heard  good  advice  so  well  conveyed." 

He  was  asked  by  the  writer  whether  he  had  ever  received 
any  acknowledgment  of  his  services,  any  mark  of  gratitude 
from  the  colored  people  of  the  District  ?  "  None,"  said  he — 
"  except  that  I  now  and  then  hear,  in  a  low  tone,  a  hearty  God 
bless  you  !    That  is  enough." 

It  was  enough  ;  enough  for  recompense  and  for  justification, 
since  we  are  in  the  sad  pass  that  justification  is  needed — since 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


333 


"  Virtue  itself  of  Vice  must  pardon  beg, 
And  pray  for  leave  to  do  him  good." 

So  then,  in  this  Kepublic  there  are  millions  of  human  hearts, 
which  are  not  permitted  to  love  a  benefactor,  and  dare  not 
utter  for  him  an  invocation,  kindred  to  their  devotion  to  God, 
except  "in  a  low  tone  !" 

When  in  1846  Mr.  Adams  was  struck  the  first  time  with 
palsy,  he  was  visited  by  Charles  Sumner,  who  sat  much  by  his 
bedside.  As  he  became  better,  he  said  one  day  to  his  visitor  : 
H  You  will  enter  public  life  ;  you  do  not  want  it,  but  you  will 
be  drawn  into  the  current,  in  spite  of  yourself.  Now  I  have  a 
word  of  advice  to  give  you.  Never  accept  a  present.  While 
I  was  in  Eussia,  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  an  old  man,  whose 
conscience  became  more  active  as  his  bodily  powers  failed,  grew 
uneasy  on  account  of  the  presents  he  had  received.  He  cal- 
culated the  value  of  them,  and  paid  it  all  over  to  the  Imperial 
treasury.  This  put  me  to  thinking  upon  the  subject,  and  I 
then  made  a  resolution  never  to  accept  a  present  while  I 
remained  in  the  public  service  ;  and  I  never  have,  unless  it 
was  some  trifling  token,  as  a  hat  or  cane." 

A  neighboring  clergyman,  to  whom  this  conversation  was 
related,  exclaimed — "  A  hat !  That  cannot  be,  for  he  never  had 
any  but  an  old  one."  It  was  a  tradition  in  Cambridge  that 
Mr.  Adams,  while  Professor  in  the  University,  was  noted  for 
indifference  to  personal  appearance,  and  his  well-worn  hat  was 
particularly  remembered. 

In  the  relation  of  husband  Mr.  Adams  showed  the  same 
fidelity  and  devotedness  which  characterized  him  in  every  other. 
He  was  united  to  a  woman  whose  virtues  and  accomplishments 
blessed  and  adorned  his  home.    In  a  letter  written  shortly 


334         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

after  his  noble  vindication  of  the  character  of  woman,  and  the 
propriety  and  utility  of  their  intervention  in  public  affairs, 
he  said : 

"  Had  I  not,  by  the  dispensation  of  Providence,  been  bless- 
ed beyond  the  ordinary  lot  of  humanity  in  all  the  domestic 
relations  of  life,  as  a  son,  a  brother,  and  a  husband,  I  should 
still  have  thought  myself  bound  to  vindicate  the  social  rights 
and  the  personal  honor  of  the  petitioners,  who  had  confided  to 
me  the  honorable  trust  of  presenting  the  expression  of  their 
wishes  to  the  legislative  councils  of  the  nation.  But  that  this 
sense  of  imperious  duty  was  quickened  within  my  bosom  by 
the  affectionate  estimate  of  the  female  character  impressed 
upon  my  heart  and  mind  by  the  virtues  of  the  individual  wo- 
man, with  whom  it  has  been  my  lot  to  pass  in  these  intimate 
relations  my  days  upon  earth,  I  have  no  doubt." 

In  1840  he  had  a  severe  fall,  striking  his  head  against  the 
corner  of  an  iron  rail,  which  inflicted  a  heavy  contusion  on  his 
forehead,  and  rendered  him  for  some  time  insensible.  His  left 
shoulder  was  likewise  dislocated.  This  occurred  at  the  House 
of  Representatives  after  adjournment.  Fortunately  several 
members  were  within  call,  and  gave  him  the  most  tender  and 
assiduous  assistance.  He  was  carried  to  the  lodgings  of  one 
of  them,  and  a  physician  called.  With  the  united  strength 
of  four  men,  it  took  more  than  an  hour  to  reduce  the  disloca- 
tion. "  Still,"  says  a  witness  of  the  scene,  "  Mr.  Adams  ut- 
tered not  a  murmur,  though  the  great  drops  of  sweat  which 
rolled  down  his  furrowed  cheeks,  or  stood  upon  his  brow,  told 
but  too  well  the  agony  he  suffered."  At  his  request  he  was 
immediately  conveyed  to  his  house  ;  and  the  next  morning,  to 
the  astonishment  of  every  one,  he  was  found  in  his  seat  as 


JOHN    QUINCY    ADAMS.  335 

usual.  He  was  accustomed  to  be  the  first  to  enter  the  House 
and  the  last  to  leave  it.  Mr.  Everett  tells  us  that  he  had  his 
seat  by  the  side  of  the  veteran,  and  that  he  should  not  have 
been  more  surprised  to  miss  one  of  the  marble  pillars  from  the 
hall  than  Mr.  Adams. 

That  this  painful  accident  did  not  impair  the  vigor  of  his 
mind  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  he  subsequently  argued  the 
Amistad  case,  and  sustained  the  fierce  contest  of  three  days 
on  the  expulsion  resolution  in  the  House.  It  was  three  years 
later  also  that  he  made  the  journey  for  the  benefit  of  his 
health,  which  turned  out  an  improvised  and  continuous  ova- 
tion. He  had  designed  merely  to  visit  Lebanon  Springs.  He 
was  so  much  pleased  with  his  journey  thus  far  into  the  State 
of  New- York,  that  he  concluded  to  prolong  it  to  Quebec, 
Montreal,  and  Niagara  Falls,  and  return  to  Massachusetts 
through  the  length  of  the  empire  State.  This  return  was 
signalized  by  attentions  and  homage  on  the  part  of  the  people 
so  spontaneous  and  unanimous,  that  nothing  which  has  occur- 
red since  the  progress  of  La  Fayette,  has  equalled  it.  "  Pub- 
lic greetings,  processions,  celebrations,  met  and  accompa- 
nied every  step  of  his  journey."  Addresses  by  eminent  men, 
and  acclamations  of  men,  women,  and  children,  who  thronged 
the  way,  bore  witness  of  the  deep  hold  which  the  man,  with- 
out accessories  of  office  and  pageantry  of  state,  had  of  their 
hearts.  Of  this  excursion  he  said  himself  towards  the  close  of 
it,  "I  have  not  come  alone,  the  whole  people  of  the  State  of 
New- York  have  been  my  companions."  In  the  autumn  of  the 
same  year  he  went  to  Cincinnati  to  assist  in  laying  the  foun- 
dation of  an  observatory.  This  journey  was  attended  by  sim- 
ilar demonstrations.  At  a  cordial  greeting  given  him  at  Mays- 


336        HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

ville,  Kentucky,  after  an  emphatic  testimony  to  the  integrity 
of  Mr.  Clay,  he  made  that  renewed  and  solemn  denial  of  the 
charges  of  "  bargain  and  corruption." 

He  suffered  a  stroke  of  paralysis  in  November,  1846,  but 
recovered,  and  took  his  seat  at  the  ensuing  session  of  Congress. 
He  regarded  this  as  equivalent  to  a  final  summons,  and  made 
no  subsequent  entry  in  his  faithful  diary  except  under  the  title 
of  "  posthumous."    After  this  he  spoke  little  in  the  House. 

In  November,  1847,  he  left  his  home  in  Quincy  for  the  last 
time.  On  the  twentieth  of  February  he  passed  his  last  even- 
ing at  his  house  in  Washington.  He  retired  to  his  library  at 
nine  o'clock,  where  his  wife  read  to  him  a  sermon  by  Bishop 
Wilberforce  on  Time.  The  next  morning  he  rose  early  and 
occupied  himself  with  his  pen  as  he  was  wont.  With  more  than 
usual  spryness  and  alacrity  he  ascended  the  stairs  of  the  Cap- 
itol. In  the  House  a  resolution  for  awarding  thanks  and 
gold  medals  to  several  officers  concerned  in  the  Mexican  war 
was  taken  up.  Mr.  Adams  uttered  his  emphatic  No  !  on  two 
or  three  preliminary  questions.  When  the  final  question  was 
about  to  be  put,  and  while  he  was  in  the  act  of  rising,  as  it 
was  supposed,  to  address  the  House,  he  sunk  down.  He  was 
borne  to  the  speaker's  room.  He  revived  so  far  as  to  inquire 
for  his  wife,  who  was  present.  He  seemed  desirous  of  uttering 
thanks.  The  only  distinct  words  he  articulated  were,  "  This  is 
the  end  of  earth.  I  am  content."  He  lingered  until  the 
evening  of  the  twenty-third,  and  then  expired. 

Thus  he  fell  at  his  post  in  the  eighty-first  year  of  his 
age,  the  age  of  Plato.  With  the  exception  of  Phocion  there 
is  no  active  public  life  continued  on  the  great  arena,  with 
equal  vigor  and  usefulness,  to  so  advanced  an  age.  Lord 


JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS. 


9 


Mansfield  retired  at  eighty-three  ;  but  the  quiet  routine  of  a 
judicial  station  is  not  as  trying  as  the  varied  and  boisterous 
contentions  of  a  political  and  legislative  assembly.  Kipe  as 
he  was  for  heaven;  he  was  still  greatly  needed  upon  earth. 
His  services  would  have  been  of  inestimable  importance  in  dis- 
posing of  the  perilous  questions,  not  yet  definitively  settled, 
which  arose  out  of  unhallowed  war  and  conquest. 

There  is  not  much  satisfaction  in  dwelling  upon  the  gene- 
ral effusions  of  eloquence,  or  the  pageantry  which  ensued.  A 
single  glance  of  guileless  love  from  the  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren, who  came  forth  from  their  smiling  villages  to  greet  the  vir- 
tuous old  statesman  in  his  unpretending  journeys,  was  worth 
the  whole  of  it.  The  hearty  tribute  of  Mr.  Benton,  so  long  a 
denouncer,  has  an  exceptional  value,  the  greater  because  he 
had  made  honorable  amends  to  the  departed  during  his  life. 
That  he  was  sincerely  and  deeply  mourned  by  the  nation, 
it  would  be  a  libel  on  the  nation  to  doubt.  His  remains  rest- 
ed appropriately  in  Independence  and  Faneuil  Halls  on  the 
way  to  their  final  resting  place,  the  tomb  he  had  made  for 
those  of  his  venerated  parents.  There  he  was  laid  by  his 
neighbors  and  townsmen,  sorrowing  for  the  friend  and  the  man. 
His  monument  is  to  stand  on  the  other  side  of  the  pulpit. 

Happy  place  which  hallows  such  memories,  and  holds  up 

SUch  EXAMPLES. 


Jacks  an. 


JACKSON. 


TPHE  events  of  Jackson's  life,  even  in  their  chronological 
-L  order,  dispose  themselves  into  a  number  of  combinations, 
which  a  skilful  pen,  guided  by  the  hand  of  a  poet,  might  easily 
work  up  into  a  series  of  impressive  and  contrasted  pictures. 
We  have  not  the  ability,  had  we  the  space  here,  to  undertake 
this  labor,  but  we  see  no  reason  why  we  should  not  present 
some  outlines  of  it,  for  the  benefit  of  future  more  competent 
artists. 

In  such  a  series,  we  should  first  see  the  flaxen-haired,  blue- 
eyed  son  of  Irish  emigrants,  driven  from  their  home  by  a  sense 
of  British  oppression,  opening  his  young  eyes  in  South  Carolina, 
amid  the  stormy  scenes  of  our  Revolution.    Around  him,  his 


342  HOMES     OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

friends  and  neighbors  are  training  for  the  battle,  and  preparing 
to  defend  their  homes  from  an  invading  foe ;  his  eldest  brother 
Hugh,  is  brought  back  dead  from  the  fatigues  of  active  ser- 
vice ;  the  old  Waxhaw  meeting-house,  a  temporary  hospital, 
through  which  he  wanders,  is  crowded  with  the  wounded  and 
dying,  whose  condition  moves  him  to  tears,  and  fills  him  with 
melancholy  impressions  of  the  horrors  of  war,  coupled  with  a 
deepening  sense  of  English  cruelty  and  oppression,  of  which 
he  had  before  heard  in  the  tales  of  his  mother  and  her  kindred 
about  the  old  country  from  which  they  had  fled ;  while,  finally, 
he  himself,  but  little  more  than  thirteen  years  of  age,  in  com- 
pany with  a  brother  Robert,  takes  up  arms,  is  made  a  prisoner, 
suffers  severely  from  wounds  and  the  small-pox  of  the  jail,  loses 
first  his  brother  by  that  disease,  and  then  his  mother  by  a  fever 
caught  on  board  a  prison-ship,  whither  she  had  gone  to  nurse 
some  captive  friends,  and  is  thus  left  alone  in  the  world,  the 
only  one  of  all  his  family  spared  by  the  enemy. 

We  should  next  see  the  friendless,  portionless  orphan  wend- 
ing his  solitary  way  through  the  immense  forests  of  the  Far 
West,  (now  the  State  of  Tennessee),  where  the  settlements  were 
hundreds  of  miles  from  each  other,  while  every  tree  and  rock  shel- 
tered an  enemy  in  the  shape  of  some  grisly  animal,  or  the  person 
of  a  more  savage  Indian.  But  he  succeeds  in  crossing  the  moun- 
tains, he  reaches  the  infant  villages  on  the  Cumberland  River,  he 
studies  and  practises  the  rude  law  of  those  distant  regions,  takes 
part  in  all  the  wild  vicissitudes  of  frontier  life,  repels  the  red 
man,  fights  duels  with  the  white,  encounters  in  deadly  feuds 
the  turbulent  spirits  of  a  half-barbarous  society,  administers 
justice  in  almost  extemporized  courts,  helps  to  frame  a  reg- 
ular State  constitution,  marries  a  wife  as  chivalric,  noble,  and 


JACKSON. 


343 


fearless  as  himself,  and  at  last,  when  society  is  reduced  to  some 
order,  is  chosen  a  representative  of  the  backwoods  in  the 
Congress  at  Washington. 

Arrived  at  the  seat  of  government,  a  tall,  thin,  uncouth 
figure,  with  no  words  to  express  himself  in,  and  apparently 
without  ambition, — he  yet  shows  himself,  with  all  his  wild 
western  coarseness,  a  man  of  insight  and  decision.  He  made 
no  speeches,  he  drew  up  no  reports,  he  created  no  sensation  in 
the  committee-room,  or  the  lobbies, — he  was  not  at  all  known 
as  a  leader  or  a  prominent  individual,  but  he  was  one  of  the 
twelve  democrats  of  the  House,  who  dared  to  oppose  returning 
an  answer  to  Washington's  last  address,  when  the  fame  and 
the  personal  influence  of  that  exalted  man  were  almost  om- 
nipotent. He  doubtless  estimated  the  services  and  the  char- 
acter of  Washington  as  highly  as  any  member,  but  the  mea- 
sures of  the  administration  his  judgment  did  not  approve, 
and  he  voted  as  he  thought — a  silent  uncultivated  representa- 
tive,— odd  in  his  dress  and  look,  but  with  grit  in  him,  not 
appalled  even  by  the  stupendous  greatness  of  Washington  ! 
On  the  other  hand,  he  saw  in  J efferson  a  man  for  the  times  ; 
became  his  friend,  voted  for  him,  and  helped  his  State  to  vote 
for  him  as  the  second  President. 

In  the  next  phases  of  his  life  we  discover  Jackson,  as  the 
dignified  and  impartial  judge,  asserting  the  law  in  the  face  of 
a  powerful  combination  of  interested  opponents  ;  as  the  retir- 
ed and  prosperous  planter,  gathering  together  a  large  estate, 
which  he  surrounds  with  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  a  refined 
existence,  but  sells  at  once  when  a  friend's  misfortunes  involves 
him  in  debt,  and  retires  to  a  primitive  log  cabin  to  commence 
his  fortunes  once  more  ;  as  an  Indian  fighter  achieving  amid 


344         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

hardships  of  all  kinds — the  want  of  funds,  the  inclemency  of 
the  season,  the  ravages  of  disease,  the  unskilfulness  of  superi- 
ors, the  insubordination  of  troops — a  series  of  brilliant  victories 
that  made  his  name  a  terror  to  the  Creeks  and  all  their  con- 
federates. His  campaign  in  ,the  Floridas  broke  the  power  of 
the  Indians,  secretly  in  league  with  the  British,  forced  them 
into  a  treaty,  and  wrested  Pensacola  from  the  possession  of  the 
Spanish  governor,  who  had  basely  violated  his  neutrality,  and 
who,  when  he  wished  to  negotiate,  was  answered  by  Jackson, 
"  My  diplomacy  is  in  the  mouths  of  my  cannon." 

But  a  different  foe  and  a  wider  theatre  awaited  the  display 
of  his  military  genius  at  New  Orleans.  Worn  down  with  sick- 
ness and  exhaustion,  with  raw  and  undisciplined  troops — many 
of  them  the  mere  rabble  of  the  wharves,  and  some  of  them 
buccaneers  from  neighboring  islands — scantily  supplied  with 
arms  and  ammunition,  in  the  midst  of  a  mixed  population  of 
different  tongues,  where  attachment  to  his  cause  was  doubtful, 
continually  agitated  by  gloomy  forebodings  of  the  result,  though 
outwardly  serene,  he  was  surrounded  by  the  flower  of  the  Brit- 
ish army,  led  by  its  most  brave  and  accomplished  generals. 
The  attack  commenced  :  from  his  breastwork  of  cotton  bales 
his  unerring  rifles  poured  a  continuous  flame  of  fire.  The 
enemy  quailed  :  its  leaders  were  killed  or  wounded  ;  and  the 
greatest  victory  of  the  war  crowned  the  exertions  of  Jackson 
as  the  greatest  military  genius  of  his  time.  A  universal  glow 
of  joy  and  gratitude  spread  from  the  liberated  city  over  the 
whole  land  ;  Te  deums  were  sung  in  the  churches ;  children 
robed  in  white  strewed  his  way  with  flowers  ;  the  nation  jubi- 
lantly uttered  its  admiration  and  gratitude.  It  was  thus  the 
desolated  orphan  of  the  Carolinas  avenged  the  wrongs  of  his 


J  A  C  K  SO  N . 


345 


family,  and  asserted  the  rights  of  his  country,  to  the  lasting 
dishonor  of  Great  Britain. 

Years  pass  on,  and  we  see  the  successful  General  the  Pres- 
ident of  the  People,  engaged  once  more  in  a  fearful  struggle  ; 
this  time  not  against  a  foreign  foe,  but  with  an  internal  enemy 
of  vast  power  and  tremendous  means  of  mischief.  He  is  fight- 
ing the  monster  bank — another  St.  George  gallantly  charging 
another  dragon — and,  as  usual,  comes  out  of  the  contest  victo- 
rious. The  innumerable  army  of  money-changers,  wielding  a 
power  as  formidable,  though  unseen,  as  that  of  an  absolute 
monarch,  is  routed  amid  a  horrible  clangor  of  metal  and  ran- 
corous hisses.  The  great  true  man,  sustained  by  an  honest 
people,  was  greater  than  the  power  of  money.  He  wrought 
the  salvation  of  his  countiy  from  a  hideous  corruption — from 
bankruptcy,  disgrace,  and  long  years  of  political  subjection. 
His  near  posterity  has  recognized  the  service,  and  placed  him 
among  the  most  illustrious  of  statesmen. 

Finally,  we  see  the  patriot  soldier  and  civilian,  a  bowed  and 
white-haired  old  man,  in  his  secluded  Hermitage,  which  is  sit- 
uated near  the  scenes  of  his  earliest  labors  and  triumphs.  The 
companion  of  his  love,  who  had  shared  in  his  struggles,  but 
was  not  permitted  to  share  in  his  latest  glory,  is  with  him  no 
more ;  children  they  had  none  ;  and  he  moves  tranquilly  towards 
his  grave  alone.  No !  not  alone :  for  travellers  from  all 
lands  visit  his  retreat,  to  gaze  upon  his  venerable  form  ;  his 
countrymen  throng  his  doors,  to  gather  wisdom  from  his  say- 
ings,— his  friends  and  neighbors  almost  worship  him,  and  an 
adopted  family  bask  in  the  benignant  goodness  of  his  noble 
heart — his  great  mind,  too,  "  beaming  in  mildest  mellow  splen- 
dor, beaming  if  also  trembling,  like  a  great  sun  on  the  verge  of 


346 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


the  horizon,  near  now  to  its  long  farewell."  Thus,  the  orphan, 
the  emigrant,  the  Indian  fighter,  the  conquering  General,  the 
popular  President,  the  venerated  Patriarch,  goes  to  the  repose 
of  the  humble  Christian. 

•  What  were  the  sources  of  J ackson's  pre-eminent  greatness, 
of  his  invariable  success,  of  his  resistless  personal  influence,  of 
his  deep  hold  upon  the  minds  of  his  fellows  ?  He  was  no  ora- 
tor, he  was  no  writer,  he  had  in  fact  no  faculty  of  expression, 
he  was  unsustained  by  wealth,  he  never  courted  the  multitude, 
he  relied  upon  no  external  assistances.  What  he  did,  he 
achieved  for  himself,  without  aid,  directly,  and  by  the  mere 
force  of  his  own  nature.  Neither  education,  nor  family,  nor 
the  accidents  of  fortune,  nor  the  friendship  of  the  powerful,  helped 
to  raise  him  aloft,  and  push  him  forward  in  his  career.  The 
secret  of  his  elevation,  then,  was  this, — that  he  saw  the  Eight 
and  loved  it,  and  was  never  afraid  to  pursue  it,  against  all  the 
allurements  of  personal  ambition,  and  all  the  hostility  of  the 
banded  sons  of  error.  There  have  been  many  men  of  a  larger 
reach  and  compass  of  mind,  and  some  of  a  keener  insight  and 
sagacity,  but  none,  of  a  more  stern,  inflexible,  self-sacrificing 
devotion  to  what  they  esteemed  to  be  true.  He  carried  his 
life  in  his  hand,  ready  to  be  thrown  away  at  the  call  of  honor 
or  patriotism,  and  it  was  this  unswerving  integrity,  which  com- 
mended him  so  strongly  to  to  the  affections  of  the  masses. 
Whatever  men  may  be  in  themselves,  their  hearts  are  always 
prone  to  do  homage  to  honesty.  They  love  those  whom  they  can 
trust,  or  only  hate  them,  because  their  justice  and  truth  stands 
in  the  way  of  some  cherished,  selfish  object. 

Jackson's  will  was  imperious  ;  the  report  does  not  follow 
the  flash  more  rapidly  than  his  execution  of  a  deed  followed 


JACKSON. 


347 


the  conception  of  it ;  or  rather  his  thought  and  his  act  were 
an  instinctive,  instantaneous,  inseparable  unity.  Like  a  good 
marksman,  as  soon  as  he  saw  his  object  he  fired,  and  generally 
with  effect.  This  impulsive  decision  gave  rise  to  some  over-hasty 
and  precipitate  movements,  but,  in  the  main,  was  correct. 
What  politicians,  therefore,  could  only  accomplish  if  at  all  by  a 
slow  and  cunning  process  of  intrigue,  what  diplomatists  reach- 
ed by  long-winded  negotiations,  he  marched  to,  without  indirec- 
tion, with  his  eye  always  on  the  point,  and  his  whole  body  fol- 
lowing the  lead  of  the  eye.  We  do  not  mean  that  he  was  utterly 
without  subtlety, — for  some  subtlety  is  necessary  to  the  most 
ordinary  prudence,  and  is  particularly  necessary  to  the  forecast 
of  generalship, — but  simply  that  he  never  dissimulated,  never 
assumed  disguise,  never  carried  water  on  both  shoulders,  as  the 
homely  phrase  has  it,  and  never  went  around  an  obstacle,  when 
he  could  level  it,  or  push  it  out  of  the  way.  The  foxy  or  fe- 
line element  was  small  in  a  nature,  into  which  so  much  mag- 
nanimity, supposed  to  be  lionlike,  entered. 

The  popular  opinion  of  Jackson  was,  that  he  was  an  ex- 
ceedingly irascible  person,  Ins  mislikers  even  painting  him  as 
liable  to  fits  of  roaring  and  raving  anger,  when  he  flung  about 
him  like  a  maniac  ;  but  his  intimate  friends,  who  occupied  the 
same  house  with  him  for  years,  inform  us  that  they  never  ex- 
perienced any  of  these  strong  gusts  ;  that,  though  sensitive  to 
opposition,  impatient  of  restraint,  quick  to  resent  injuries,  and 
impetuous  in  his  advance  towards  his  ends,  he  was  yet  gentle, 
kindly,  placable,  faithful  to  friends  and  forgiving  to  foes,  a 
lover  of  children  and  women,  only  unrelenting  when  his  quarry 
happened  to  be  meanness,  fraud  or  tyranny.  His  affections  were 
particularly  tender  and  strong  ;  he  could  scarcely  be  made  to 


348 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


believe  any  thing  to  the  disadvantage  of  those  he  had  once 
liked,  while  his  reconciliations  with  those  he  had  disliked,  once 
effected,  were  frank,  cordial  and  sincere.  Colonel  Benton,  who 
was  once  an  enemy,  but  afterwards  a  friend  of  many  years, 
gives  us  this  sketch  of  some  of  his  leading  characteristics  : 

"  He  was  a  careful  farmer,  overlooking  every  thing  himself, 
seeing  that  the  fields  and  fences  were  in  good  order,  the  stock 
well  attended,  and  the  slaves  comfortably  provided  for.  His 
house  was  the  seat  of  hospitality,  the  resort  of  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances, and  of  all  strangers  visiting  the  State — and  the 
more  agreeable  to  all  from  the  perfect  conformity  of  Mrs.  Jack- 
son's disposition  to  his  own.  But  he  needed  some  excitement 
beyond  that  which  a  farming  life  could  afford,  and  found  it  for 
some  years  in  the  animating  sports  of  the  turf.  He  loved  fine 
horses — racers  of  speed  and  bottom — owned  several — and  con- 
tested the  four  mile  heats  with  the  best  that  could  be  bred,  or 
bought,  or  brought  to  the  State,  and  for  large  sums.  That  is 
the  nearest  to  gaming  that  I  ever  knew  him  to  come.  Cards 
and  the  cock-pit  have  been  imputed  to  him,  but  most  erro- 
neously. I  never  saw  him  engaged  in  either.  Duels  were 
usual  in  that  time,  and  he  had  his  share  of  them,  with  their 
unpleasant  concomitants  ;  but  they  passed  away  with  all  their 
animosities,  and  he  has  often  been  seen  zealously  pressing  the 
advancement  of  those,  against  whom  he  had  but  lately  been 
arrayed  in  deadly  hostility.  His  temper  was  placable,  as  well 
as  irascible,  and  his  reconciliations  were  cordial  and  sincere. 
Of  that,  my  own  case  was  a  signal  instance.  There  was  a  deep- 
seated  vein  of  piety  in  him,  unaffectedly  showing  itself  in  his 
reverence  for  divine  worship,  respect  for  the  ministers  of  the 
Gospel,  their  hospitable  reception  in  his  house,  and  constant 


JACKSON. 


349 


encouragement  of  all  the  pious  tendencies  of  Mrs.  Jackson. 
And  when  they  both  afterwards  became  members  of  a  church, 
it  was  the  natural  and  regular  result  of  their  early  and  cher- 
ished feelings.  He  was  gentle  in  his  house,  and  alive  to  the 
tenderest  emotions  ;  and  of  this  I  can  give  an  instance,  greatly 
in  contrast  with  his  supposed  character,  and  worth  more  than 
a  long  discourse  in  showing  what  that  character  really  was.  I 
arrived  at  his  house  one  wet,  chilly  evening  in  February,  and 
came  upon  him  in  the  twilight,  sitting  alone  before  the  fire,  a 
lamb  and  a  child  between  his  knees.  He  started  a  little,  called 
a  servant  to  remove  the  two  innocents  to  another  room,  and 
explained  to  me  how  it  was.  The  child  had  cried  because  the 
lamb  was  out  in  the  cold,  and  begged  him  to  bring  it  in — which 
he  had  done  to  please  the  child,  his  adopted  son,  then  not  two 
years  old.  The  ferocious  man  does  not  do  that !  and  though 
Jackson  had  his  passions  and  his  violences,  they  were  for  men 
and  enemies — those  who  stood  up  against  him — and  not  for 
women  and  children,  or  the  weak  and  helpless,  for  all  of  whom 
his  feelings  were  those  of  protection  and  support.  His  hospi- 
tality was  active  as  well  as  cordial,  embracing  the  worthy  in 
every  walk  of  life,  and  seeking  out  deserving  objects  to  receive 
it,  no  matter  how  obscure.  Of  this  I  learned  a  characteristic 
instance,  in  relation  to  the  son  of  the  famous  Daniel  Boone. 
The  young  man  had  come  to  Nashville  on  Ins  father's  business, 
to  be  detained  some  weeks,  and  had  his  lodgings  at  a  small 
tavern,  towards  the  lower  part  of  the  town.  General  J ackson 
heard  of  it — sought  him  out — found  him,  took  him  home  to 
remain  as  long  as  his  business  detained  him  in  the  country, 
saying,  '  Your  father's  dog  should  not  stay  in  a  tavern  while 


350         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

I  have  a  house/  This  was  heart  !  and  I  had  it  from  the  young 
man  himself,  long  after,  when  he  was  a  State  Senator  of  the 
General  Assembly  of  Missouri,  and  as  such  nominated  me  for 
the  United  States  Senate  at  my  first  election  in  1820 — his 
name  was  Benton  Boone,  and  so  named  after  my  father.  Ab- 
horrence of  debt,  public  and  private,  dislike  of  banks  and  love 
of  hard  money — love  of  justice,  and  love  of  country,  were  ruling 
passions  with  Jackson  ;  and  of  these  he  gave  constant  evidences 
in  all  the  situations  of  his  life." 

The  same  distinguished  authority  has  drawn  a  picture  of 
Jackson's  retirement  from  the  Presidency,  with  which  we  close 
our  remarks  : 

"The  second  and  last  term  of  General  Jackson's  presidency 
expired  on  the  3d  of  March,  1837.  The  next  day  at  twelve 
he  appeared  with  his  successor,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  on  the  elevated 
and  spacious  eastern  portico  of  the  capitol,  as  one  of  the  citi- 
zens who  came  to  witness  the  inauguration  of  the  new  Presi- 
dent, and  no  way  distinguished  from  them,  except  by  his  place 
on  the  left  hand  of  the  President-elect.  The  day  was  beauti- 
ful :  clear  sky,  balmy  vernal  sun,  tranquil  atmosphere  ;  and 
the  assemblage  immense.  On  foot,  in  the  large  area  in  front 
of  the  steps,  orderly  without  troops,  and  closely  wedged  to- 
gether, their  faces  turned  to  the  portico — presenting  to  the 
beholders  from  all  the  eastern  windows  the  appearance  of  a 
field  paved  with  human  faces — this  vast  crowd  remained  riveted 
to  their  places,  and  profoundly  silent,  until  the  ceremony  of 
inauguration  was  over.  It  was  the  stillness  and  silence  of 
reverence  and  affection,  and  there  was  no  room  for  mistake  as 
to  whom  this  mute  and  impressive  homage  was  rendered.  For 


JACKSON. 


351 


once  the  rising  was  eclipsed  by  the  setting  sun.  Though  dis- 
robed of  power,  and  retiring  to  the  shades  of  private  life,  it  was 
evident  that  the  great  ex-President  was  the  absorbing  object 
of  this  intense  regard.  At  the  moment  that  he  began  to  de- 
scend the  broad  steps  of  the  portico  to  take  his  seat  in  the 
open  carriage  that  was  to  bear  him  away,  the  deep,  repressed 
feeling  of  the  dense  mass  broke  forth,  acclamations  and  cheers 
bursting  from  the  heart  and  filling  the  air,  such  as  power  never 
commanded,  nor  man  in  power  ever  received.  It  was  the 
affection,  gratitude,  and  admiration  of  the  living  age,  saluting 
for  the  last  time  a  great  man.  It  was  the  acclaim  of  posterity 
breaking  from  the  bosoms  of  contemporaries.  It  was  the  an- 
ticipation of  futurity  —  unpurchasable  homage  to  the  hero- 
patriot  who,  all  his  life,  and  in  all  the  circumstances  of  his 
life — in  peace  and  in  war,  and  glorious  in  each — had  been  the 
friend  of  his  country,  devoted  to  her,  regardless  of  self.  Un- 
covered and  bowing,  with  a  look  of  unaffected  humility  and 
thankfulness,  he  acknowledged  in  mute  signs  his  deep  sensibi- 
lity to  this  affecting  overflow  of  popular  feeling.  I  was  looking 
down  from  a  side  window,  and  felt  an  emotion  which  had  never 
passed  through  me  before.  I  had  seen  the  inauguration  of 
many  presidents,  and  their  going  away,  and  their  days  of  state, 
vested  with  power,  and  surrounded  by  the  splendors  of  the  first 
magistracy  of  a  great  republic  ;  but  they  all  appeared  to  me 
as  pageants,  brief  to  the  view,  unreal  to  the  touch,  and  soon 
to  vanish.  But  here  there  seemed  to  be  a  reality  —  a  real 
scene  —  a  man  and  the  people  :  he,  laying  down  power  and 
withdrawing  through  the  portals  of  everlasting  fame  ;  they, 
sounding  in  his  ears  the  everlasting  plaudits  of  unborn  gener- 


352 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


ations.  Two  days  after  I  saw  the  patriot  ex-President  in  the 
car  which  bore  him  off  to  his  desired  seclusion  :  I  saw  him 
depart  with  that  look  of  quiet  enjoyment  which  bespoke  the 
inward  satisfaction  of  the  soul  at  exchanging  the  cares  of  office 
for  the  repose  of  home. 


Jit  it 


t 


RUFUS  KING. 


HEN  in  the  year  1803,  after  having  served  his  native 


»  "  country  with  distinguished  ability  for  more  than  seven 
years  as  Minister  Plenipotentiary  of  the  United  States  at  the 
Court  of  St.  James,  Rufus  King  returned  to  New- York,  the  city 
of  his  adoption,  he  found  his  political  friends  in  a  hopeless  mi- 
nority, and  the  rule  of  party  absolut  e,  exclusive,  and  even  vindic- 
tive. Mr.  King  had  trained  himself  from  early  life  to  the  duties 
of  a  Statesman,  and  to  that  end  neglected  no  study,  and  above 
all,  no  self-discipline  that  might  qualify  him  for  the  career  he 
desired  to  pursue.    After  serving  several  years  as  a  Delegate 


356         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

from  Massachusetts  in  the  Continental  Congress  (from  1785 
to  1789),  and  having,  as  a  member  of  the  Convention  called 
for  the  purpose,  been  actively  instrumental  in  forming  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  Mr.  King  became  in  1788 
a  resident  of  the  city  of  New- York,  where  he  had  married  two 
years  before,  Mary,  the  only  child  of  John  Alsop,  a  retired 
merchant  of  that  city.  Mr.  King  was  much  known  in  New- 
York,  for  the  Continental  Congress  during  his  term  of  service 
held  its  sessions  there ;  and  the  character  he  had  established 
for  himself  on  the  score  of  talent  and  capacity,  may  be  esti- 
mated by  the  fact,  that  he,  with  General  Schuyler  for  a  col- 
league, was  selected  as  one  of  the  first  Senators  of  the  United 
States  from  the  State  of  New-York,  under  the  new  constitution. 

His  services  proved  so  acceptable,  that  on  the  exjDiration  of 
his  first  term,  in  1795,  he  was  re-elected,  and  it  was  in  the 
second  year  of  his  second  term — in  1796,  that  he  was  appointed 
by  Washington  Minister  to  England. 

In  that  post  Mr.  King  continued  throughout  the  residue 
of  General  Washington's  administration,  through  the  whole 
of  that  of  John  Adams,  and,  at  the  request  of  President  J ef- 
ferson,  through  two  years  of  his  administration,  when,  having 
accomplished  the  negotiations  he  had  in  hand,  Mr.  King  asked 
to  be,  and  was,  recalled. 

During  this  long  residence  abroad,  remote  from  the  scene 
of  the  angry  partisan  politics  which  disturbed  the  close  of 
Washington's  term,  and  the  whole  of  that  of  Mr.  Adams, 
and  which  resulted,  in  1800,  in  the  entire  overthrow  of 
the  old  Federal  party,  and  the  success  of  Mr.  Jefferson  and 
the  Kepublican  party — Mr.  King  had  devoted  his  labors,  his 
time  and  his  talents,  to  the  service  of  his  whole  county,  and 


KING. 


357 


was  little  prepared,  therefore,  either  by  taste  or  temper,  for 
participation  in  the  angry  broils  which,  on  his  return  home,  he 
found  prevailing  throughout  the  Union.  Adhering,  as  he  did 
to  the  end,  to  the  political  principles  of  his  early  life,  he  never 
doubted,  nor  saw  occasion  to  change  the  faith  which  had  made 
him  a  Federalist,  when  the  name  included  the  Telfairs  and 
Habershams  of  Georgia,  the  Pinkneys  and  Eutledges  of  South 
Carolina,  the  Davieses  and  the  Sitgreaves  of  North  Carolina, 
the  Washingtons  and  the  Marshalls  of  Virginia,  the  Carrolls 
and  the  Hinclmans  of  Maryland,  the  Bayards  and  the  Kear- 
nys  of  Delaware,  the  Tilghmans  and  the  Binghams  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, the  Patersons  and  the  Stocktons  of  New  Jersey,  the 
Jays  and  Hamiltons  of  New- York,  the  Woolcots  and  the 
Johnsons  of  Connecticut,  the  Ellerys  and  Howells  of  Ehode 
Island,  the  Adamses  and  Otises  of  Massachusetts,  the  Smiths 
and  Gilmans  of  New  Hampshire,  the  Tichenors  and  Chittendens 
of  Vermont.  But  that  faith  was  now  in  "dim  eclipse."  The 
popular  air  was  in  another  direction,  and  Mr.  King  was  of  too 
lofty  a  character  to  trim  his  bark  to  the  veering  breeze.  Having 
acquired,  or  rather  confirmed  by  his  residence  in  England  (where 
country  life  is  better  understood  and  more  thoroughly  enjoyed, 
probably,  than  any  where  else)  a  decided  taste  for  the  country 
Mr.  King  soon  determined  to  abandon  the  city,  where — having 
no  professional  pursuits  nor  stated  occupation — he  found  few 
attractions,  and  make  his  permanent  abode  in  the  country. 
After  looking  at  many  points  on  the  Hudson  River  and  on  the 
Sound,  he  finally  established  himself  at  the  village  of  Jamaica, 
in  Queens  county,  Long  Island,  distant  about  twelve  miles 
from  the  city  of  New- York.  In  comparison  with  some  of  the 
places  which  he  had  examined  on  the  waters  of  the  Sound  and 


358  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

the  North  Kiver,  Jamaica  offered  few  inducements  of  scenery 
or  landscape.  But  it  did  offer  what  to  him,  and  especially  to 
his  wife,  were  all-important  considerations — proverbial  healthi- 
ness, and  ready  access  to  church,  schools  and  physicians.  Mrs. 
King's  health  was  already  drooping,  and  from  the  quiet,  regular 
life  of  the  country,  its  pure  air,  and  the  out-door  exercise  to 
which  it  leads,  and  of  which  she  was  so  fond,  the  hope  was 
indulged  that  she  might  be  completely  restored.  The  property 
purchased  by  Mr.  King,  consisting  of  a  well-built,  comfortable 
and  roomy  house,  with  about  ninety  acres  of  land,  is  situated 
a  little  to  the  west  of  the  village,  on  the  great  high  road  of  the 
Island  from  west  to  east.  It  is  a  dead  level,  of  a  warm  and 
quick  soil,  readily  fertilized,  the  ridge  or  back-bone  of  Long 
Island  bounding  it  on  the  north.  He  removed  his  family 
thither  in  the  spring  of  1806,  and  at  once  commenced  those 
alterations  and  improvements  which  have  made  it  what  it  now 
is — a  very  pretty  and  attractive  residence  for  any  one  who 
finds  delight  in  fine  trees,  varied  shrubbery,  a  well  cultivated 
soil,  and  the  comforts  of  a  large  house,  every  part  of  which 
is  meant  for  use,  and  none  of  it  for  show. 

When  Mr.  King  took  possession  of  his  purchase,  the  house, 
grounds  and  fences  were  after  the  uniform  pattern,  then  almost 
universal  in  the  region.  He  soon  changed  and  greatly  im- 
proved all.  The  house,  fronting  south,  was  in  a  bare  field, 
about  one  hundred  yards  back  from  the  road,  and  separated 
from  it  by  a  white  picket  fence.  A  narrow  gravel  path  led  in 
a  straight  line  from  a  little  gate,  down  to  the  door  of  the  house, 
while  further  to  the  east  was  the  gate,  through  which,  on 
another  straight  line,  running  down  by  the  side  of  the  house, 
was  the  entrance  for  carriages  and  horses.    Two  horse-chestnut 


KING. 


359 


trees,  one  east  and  the  other  west  of  the  house,  and  about 
thirty  feet  from  it,  were,  with  the  exception  of  some  old  apple 
trees,  the  only  trees  on  the  place  ;  and  the  blazing  sun  of 
summer,  and  the  abundant  dust  of  the  high  road  at  all  seasons, 
had  unobstructed  sweep  over  the  house  and  lawn,  or  what  was 
to  become  a  lawn.  Not  a  shrub  or  bush  was  interposed  between 
the  house  and  the  fence,  to  secure  any  thing  like  privacy  to  the 
abode.  On  the  contrary,  it  seemed  to  be  the  taste  of  the  day 
to  leave  every  thing  open  to  the  gaze  of  the  wayfarers,  and  in 
turn  to  expose  those  wayfarers,  their  equipages,  and  their 
doings,  to  the  inspection  of  the  inmates  of  all  roadside  houses. 
Mr.  King,  who  had  cultivated  the  study  of  Botany,  and  was 
a  genuine  admirer  of  trees,  soon  went  to  work  in  embellishing 
the  place  which  was  to  be  his  future  home,  and  in  this  he  was 
warmly  seconded  by  the  taste  of  Mrs.  King.  The  first  step 
was,  to  change  the  approach  to  the  house,  from  a  straight 
to  a  circular  walk,  broad  and  well  rolled ;  then  to  plant  out 
the  high  road.  Accordingly,  a  belt  of  from  twenty  to  thirty 
feet  in  width  along  the  whole  front  of  the  ground,  was  prepared 
by  proper  digging  and  manuring,  for  the  reception  of  shrubs 
and  trees ;  and  time  and  money  were  liberally  applied,  but 
with  wise  discrimination  as  to  the  adaptedness  to  the  soil  and 
climate,  of  the  plants  to  be  introduced.  From  the  State  of 
New  Hampshire,  through  the  careful  agency  of  his  friend,  Mr. 
Sheaffe  of  Portsmouth,  who  was  vigilant  to  have  them  properly 
procured,  packed,  and  expedited  to  Jamaica.  Mr.  King  re- 
ceived the  pines  and  firs  which,  now  very  large  trees,  adorn 
the  grounds.  They  were,  it  is  believed,  among  the  first,  if  not 
the  first  trees  of  this  kind  introduced  into  this  part  of  Long 
Island,  and  none  of  the  sort  were  then  to  be  found  in  the 


360  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

nurseries  at  Flushing.  Some  acorns  planted  near  the  house 
in  1810,  are  now  large  trees.  Mr.  King  indeed  planted,  as  the 
Komans  builded — "  for  posterity  and  the  immortal  gods/'  for 
to  his  eldest  son,  now  occupying  the  residence  of  his  father, 
he  said,  in  putting  into  the  ground  an  acorn  of  the  red  oak — 
"If  you  live  to  be  as  old  as  I  am,  you  will  see  here  a  large  tree 
and,  in  fact,  a  noble,  lofty,  well-proportioned  red  oak  now 
flourishes  there,  to  delight  with  its  wide-branching  beauty,  its 
grateful  shade,  and  more  grateful  associations,  not  the  children 
only,  but  the  grandchildren  and  great-grandchildren  of  him 
who  planted  the  acorn.  Mr.  King  possessed,  in  a  remarkable 
degree,  all  the  tastes  that  fit  one  for  the  enjoyment  of  country 
life.  He  had  a  large  and  well  selected  library,  particularly 
rich  in  its  books  relating  to  the  Americas,  and  this  library 
remains  unbroken.  With  these  true,  tried,  unwavering  and 
unwearying  friends — and  such  good  books  are — Mr.  King  spent 
much  time  ;  varying,  however,  his  studious  labors  with  outdoor 
exercise  on  horseback,  to  which  he  was  much  addicted;  and  in 
judgment  of  the  qualities,  as  well  as  in  the  graceful  manage- 
ment of  a  horse,  he  was  rarely  excelled.  He  loved,  too,  his 
gun  and  dog  ;  was  rather  a  keen  sportsman,  and  good  shot ; 
though  often,  when  the  pointer  was  hot  upon  the  game,  his 
master's  attention  would  be  diverted  by  some  rare  or  beautiful 
shrub  or  flower  upon  which  his  eye  happened  to  light,  and  of 
which — if  not  the  proper  season  for  transplanting  it  into  his 
border- — he  would  carefully  mark  the  place  and  make  a  memo- 
randum thereof,  so  as  to  be  enabled  to  return  at  the  fitting 
time,  and  secure  his  prize.  In  this  way  he  had  collected  in 
his  shrubberies  all  the  pretty  flowering  shrubs  and  plants  indi- 
genous to  the  neighborhood,  adding  thereto  such  strangers  as 


KING.  361 

he  could  naturalize  ;  so  that  during  a  visit  made  to  him  many- 
years  after  he  began  his  plantation,  by  the  Abbe  Correct,,  then 
Minister  from  Portugal  to  this  Government,  but  even  more 
distinguished  as  a  man  of  letters,  and  particularly  as  a  bota- 
nist— the  learned  Abbe  said  he  could  almost  study  the  Floivers 
and  the  Trees  of  the  central  and  eastern  portion  of  the  United 
States  in  these  grounds.  Mr.  King  loved,  too,  the  song  of 
birds — and  his  taste  was  rewarded  by  the  number  of  them 
which  took  shelter  in  this  secure  and  shady  plantation,  where 
no  guns  were  ever  allowed  to  be  fired,  nor  trap  nor  snare  to  be 
set.  The  garden  and  the  farm  also  came  in  for  their  share  of 
interest  and  attention  ;  and  nowhere  did  care  judiciously  be- 
stowed, and  expenditure  wisely  ordered,  produce  more  sure  or 
gratifying  results. 

About  the  year  1817  Mr.  King  turned  his  attention  to  the 
importation  of  some  cattle  of  the  North  Devon  breed.  In  the 
preceding  year  he  received  as  a  token  of  a  friendship  contract- 
ed during  his  residence  in  England,  from  Mr.  Coke  of  Holkham 
(the  great  English  Commoner,  and  warm  friend  of  America 
in  the  revolutionary  contest,  and  always  interested  in  what- 
ever might  promote  the  welfare  of  the  people  in  whose  early 
struggle  for  their  rights  he  had  sympathized),  two  beautiful 
cows  of  the  North  Devon  breed,  as  being  particularly  adapt- 
ed, as  Mr.  Coke  supposed,  to  the  light,  level  soil  of  the 
southern  slope  of  Long  Island, — similar  in  these  qualities  to 
that  of  his  own  magnificent  domain  at  Holkham,  in  Norfolk. 
Mr.  King  was  so  much  pleased  with  these  animals,  so  beauti- 
ful in  themselves,  of  a  uniform  mahogany  color,  with  no  white 
marks,  finely  limbed  almost  as  deer,  with  regularly  curved  and 
tapering  horns,  of  extreme  docility,  and  easily  kept,  that  in 


362        HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

1817  he  imported  several  more,  and  was  thus  enabled  to  pre- 
serve the  race  in  purity,  and  measurably  to  supply  the  demand 
for  the  pure  stock,  which  is  now  widely  scattered  throughout 
the  country. 

While  thus  enjoying  with  the  real  zest  of  a  cultivated  mind, 
and  of  a  disposition  keenly  alive  to  the  aspect,  the  voices  and  the 
beauties  of  nature,  the  pleasures  of  a  country  life ;  Mr. King  was 
not  unmindful  of,  nor  indifferent  to  the  great  and  interesting 
contemporaneous  drama  of  politics,  which,  although  mainly 
played  out  in  Europe,  swept  our  republic  too  at  last  into  its  vor- 
tex. His  early  training,  early  instruction,  and  early  and  eminent 
successes  in  public  life,  made  it  alike  unsuitable  and  impos- 
sible for  him  to  withdraw  himself  wholly  from  the  scene.  And 
accordingly,  although  never  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life  seek- 
ing office,  or  putting  himself  forward,  Mr.  King  was  frequent- 
ly appealed  to,  in  his  retirement,  by  political  friends,  some- 
times consulted  by  political  opponents, — while  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  receiving  with  elegant  and  cordial  hospitality  at  Ja- 
maica, distinguished  visitors,  both  of  his  own  country,  and 
from  abroad.  Among  such  visitors  was  the  Abbe  Correa,  as 
already  stated,  about  the  period  when,  as  Secretary  of  State 
to  President  Monroe,  John  Quincy  Adams  was  asserting  in 
his  correspondence  with  the  English  Minister  the  right  of  the 
United  States  to  the  free  navigation  of  the  St.  Lawrence. 
After  discussing  with  Mr  King  in  the  library,  the  points  of  in- 
ternational law  brought  up  by  this  claim, — in  the  course  of 
which,  somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  the  Abbe,  Mr.  King  evin- 
ced entire  familiarity  with  the  analogous  points  brought  up 
and  settled,  as  regards  European  rivers,  in  the  then  recently 
held  Congress  of  Vienna  ;  and  maintained  the  position,  that 


KING. 


363 


what  was  law  between  states  in  Europe  conterminous  to 
great  navigable  streams,  must  be  law  here  ;  and  that  what 
Grreat  Britain  had  assented  to,  and  had  joined  in  requiring 
others  to  assent  to,  in  respect  to  the  Khine,  she  must  assent  to 
in  respect  to  the  St.  Lawrence, — the  Abbe  proposed  a  walk 
in  the  grounds,  and  once  there,  laying  aside  politics,  diploma- 
cy, and  international  law,  the  two  statesmen  were  soon  very 
deep  in  botany  and  the  system  of  Linnseus,  and  agriculture, 
and  in  all  the  cognate  questions  of  climate,  soils,  manures,  &c, 
and  seemed  quite  as  eager  in  these  pursuits,  as  in  those  grave 
and  more  solemn  questions  of  state  policy,  which  occupy,  but 
do  not,  in  the  same  degree,  innocently  and  surely  reward  the 
attention  and  interest  of  public  men.  It  was  on  occasion  of 
this  visit,  that  the  Abbe  Correa  expressed  his  gratification  at 
finding  in  the  plantation  of  Mr.  King  so  large  a  collection  of 
the  plants  and  shrubs  indigenous  to  that  part  of  our  country, 
— a  gratification  enhanced,  as  he  added,  by  the  previous  dis- 
cussions in  the  library,  in  the  course  of  which  he  had  such  de- 
monstration of  Mr.  King's  varied  and  comprehensive,  yet  mi- 
nute knowledge  of  the  great  public  questions  which  had  agi- 
tated Europe,  and  of  the  more  recent,  as  well  as  more  ancient 
expositions  of  international  law  applicable  thereto. 

Previously  to  this  period,  however,  Mr.  King  had  been 
recalled  to  public  life.  At  the  commencement  of  the  war 
of  1812  with  Great  Britain,  Mr.  King,  though  disapproving 
both  of  the  time  of  declaring,  and  of  the  inefficiency  in  con- 
ducting, the  war,  and  reposing  little  confidence  either  in  the 
motives  or  the  abilities  of  the  administration,  did  nevertheless 
feel  it  his  duty,  the  sword  being  drawn,  to  sustain,  as  best  he 
might,  the  cause  of  his  country.    Among  the  first,  and  for  a 


364 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


time  most  discouraging  results  of  the  war,  was  the  stoppage  of 
specie  payments  by  all  the  banks  south  of  New  England.  The 
panic  in  New- York  unavoidably  was  very  great  ;  and  very 
much  depended  upon  the  course  to  be  taken  by  its  banks  and 
its  citizens,  as  to  the  effect  to  be  produced  upon  the  national 
cause  and  the  national  arm,  by  the  suspension  of  payments. 
In  this  emergency,  appealed  to  by  his  former  fellow-citizens, 
Mr.  King  went  to  the  city,  and  at  the  Tontine  Coffee  House, 
at  a  general  meeting  called  to  deliberate  on  the  course  to  be 
taken  by  the  community  in  regard  to  the  banks,  and  in  gen- 
eral in  regard  to  the  rights  and  duties  alike,  of  creditors  and 
debtors  under  the  circumstances,  he  made  a  speech  to  the  as- 
sembled multitude,  in  which,  after  deploring  the  circumstances 
which  had  forced  upon  the  banks  the  necessity  of  suspension, 
he  went  on  to  show  that  it  was  a  common  cause,  in  which  all 
had  a  part,  and  where  all  had  duties.    That  the  extreme  right 
of  the  bill-holder,  if  enforced  to  the  uttermost  against  the 
banks,  would  aggravate  the  evil  to  the  public,  although  possi- 
bly it  might  benefit  a  few  individuals ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  good  to  all,  and  strength  and  confidence  to  the  general 
cause,  would  result  from  a  generous  forbearance,  and  mutual 
understanding  that,  if  the  banks  on  their  part  would  restrict 
themselves  within  the  limits  as  to  issues  and  credits  recognized 
as  safe  previous  to  the  suspension,  the  community  at  large  on 
their  part,  might,  and  possibly  would  continue  to  receive  and 
pass  the  bills  of  the  banks  as  before,  and  as  though  redeemable 
in  coin.    He  urged  with  great  power  and  earnestness  the  duty 
of  fellow-citizens  to  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  such  an 
emergency, — when  a  foreign  enemy  was  pressing  upon  them, 
and  when,  without  entering  into  the  motives  or  causes  which 


KING. 


365 


led  to  the  war,  about  which  men  differ, — all  Americans  should 
feel  it  as  their  first  and  foremost  obligation  to  stand  by  their 
country.  The  particular  province  of  those  he  addressed  was 
not  so  much  to  enlist  in  the  armed  service  of  the  country,  as 
to  uphold  its  credit,  and  thus  cherish  the  resources  which  would 
raise  and  reward  armies  ;  and  if  New- York  should  on  this 
occasion  be  true  to  her  duty — which  also  he  plainly  showed  to 
be  her  highest  interest — the  clouds  of  the  present  would  pass 
away,  and  her  honor  and  her  prosperity,  with  those  of  the 
nation  of  which  she  formed  part  and  parcel,  would  be  main- 
tained and  advanced.  The  effect  of  this  address  was  decisive, 
and  to  an  extent  quite  unprecedented  in  any  commercial  com- 
munity under  such  circumstances  ;  confidence  was  restored, 
and  the  course  of  business  went  on  almost  unruffled  and  un- 
disturbed. 

In  1813,  Mr.  King,  after  a  lapse  of  seventeen  years  from 
his  former  sendee  as  a  Senator  of  the  United  States,  was 
again  chosen  by  the  Legislature  of  the  State  of  New- York,  as 
one  of  its  Senators  in  Congress ;  and  from  the  moment  he  re- 
sumed his  seat  in  the  Senate,  he  took  leave,  for  the  remainder 
of  his  life,  of  the  undisturbed  enjoyments  of  his  rural  abode  ; 
for  a  large  portion  of  his  time  was  necessarily  spent  at  Wash- 
ington, it  being  part  of  his  notion  of  duty,  never  to  be  remiss 
in  attendance  upon,  or  in  the  discharge  of,  any  trust  committed 
to  him.  Still,  his  heart  was  among  his  plantations  and  his 
gardens,  and  even  when  absent,  he  kept  up  a  constant  corres- 
pondence with  his  son  and  his  gardener,  and  always  returned 
with  fond  zest  to  this  quiet  home. 

In  1819,  Mrs.  King,  whose  health  had  been  long  declining, 
died,  and  was  buried  with  all  simplicity  in  the  yard  of  the  village 


366  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

church,  where  together  they  long  had  worshipped,  and  which 
stood  on  ground  originally  forming  part  of  Mr.  King's  property. 

At  the  time  of  her  death,  all  the  children  had  left  the 
paternal  roof,  and  settled  in  life  with  their  own  families  around 
them ;  and  solitude,  therefore,  embittered  the  loss  to  Mr.  King 
of  such  a  companion.  And  she  was  eminently  fitted  by  similarity 
of  tastes  and  acquirements,  to  share  with  her  husband  the 
cares  and  the  pleasures  of  life,  as  well  as  its  weightier  duties. 
She  was  in  an  especial  manner  a  lover  of  the  country,  and  had 
cultivated  the  knowledge  which  lends  additional  charms  to  the 
beauties  and  the  wonders  of  the  vegetable  creation.  Over  all 
these  beauties,  her  death  cast  a  pall ;  and  although  he  repined 
not,  it  was  easy  to  see  how  deep  a  sorrow  overshadowed  his  re- 
maining years.  Yet  he  nerved  himself  to  the  discharge  of  his 
public  duties  with  unabated  zeal  and  fidelity;  and  when 
re-elected  in  1820  to  the  Senate,  was  punctual  as  always  at 
his  post,  and  earnest  as  ever  in  fulfilling  all  its  requirements. 
His  own  health,  however,  before  so  unshaken,  began  to  fail ; 
and  at  the  closing  session  of  1825,  Mr.  King,  in  taking  leave 
of  the  Senate,  announced  his  purpose  of  retiring  from  public 
life ;  having  then  reached  the  age  of  seventy  years,  of  which 
more  than  one  half  had  been  spent  in  the  service  of  his 
country,  from  the  period  when  he  entered  the  Continental 
Congress  in  1784,  to  that  in  which  he  left  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States  in  1825.  But  John  Q.  Adams,  who  had  become 
President,  pressed  upon  Mr.  King  the  embassy  to  England. 
His  enfeebled  health  and  advanced  age  induced  him  at  once 
to  decline,  but  Mr.  Adams  urged  him  to  refrain  from  any  imme- 
diate decision,  and  to  take  the  subject  into  consideration  after 
he  should  return  home,  and  then  determine.    Kecalling  with 


KING. 


367 


lively  and  pleasant  recollection  the  years  of  his  former  embassy 
to  England,  and  hoping  assuredly  to  be  able — if  finding  there 
the  same  fair  and  friendly  reception  before  extended  to  him — to 
benefit  his  country  by  the  adjustment  of  some  outstanding  and 
long-standing  points  of  controversy  between  the  two  nations  ; 
influenced  too,  in  a  great  degree,  by  the  opinion  of  eminent 
physicians,  that  for  maladies  partaking  of  weakness,  such  as  he 
was  laboring  under,  a  sea-voyage  could  hardly  fail  to  be  bene- 
ficial, Mr.  King,  rather  in  opposition  to  the  wishes  of  his  family, 
determined  to  accept  the  mission, — first  stipulating,  however, 
that  his  eldest  son,  John  A.  King,  should  accompany  him  as 
Secretary  of  Legation.  It  is  proof  of  the  strong  desire  of 
the  then  administration  to  avail  of  Mr.  King's  talents  and 
character,  and  of  the  hope  of  good  from  his  employment  in  this 
mission,  that  an  immediate  compliance  with  this  request  was 
made  ;  and  the  gentleman  who  had  been  previously  nominated 
to,  and  confirmed  by,  the  Senate,  as  Secretary  of  Legation, 
having  been  commissioned  elsewhere,  Mr.  John  A.  King  was 
appointed  Secretary  of  Legation  to  his  father. 

The  voyage,  unhappily,  aggravated  rather  than  relieved  the 
malady  of  Mr.  King  ;  his  health,  after  he  reached  England, 
continued  to  decline,  and  he  therefore,  after  a  few  months' 
residence  in  London,  asked  leave  to  resign  his  post  and  come 
home.  He  returned  accordingly,  but  only  to  die.  He  lan- 
guished for  some  weeks,  and  finally,  having  been  removed  from 
Jamaica  to  the  city  for  greater  convenience  of  attendance  and 
care,  he  died  in  New- York,  on  the  29th  of  April,  1827. 

As  with  Mrs.  King,  so  with  him — in  conformity  with  the 
unaffected  simplicity  of  their  whole  lives — were  the  funeral  rites 
at  his  death.    Borne  to  Jamaica,  which  for  more  than  twenty 


368  HOMES     OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

years  had  been  his  home,  the  body  was  carried  to  the  grave 
by  the  neighbors  among  whom  he  had  so  long  lived, — laid  in 
the  earth  by  the  side  of  her  who  had  gone  before  him,  to  be 
no  more  separated  for  ever ;  and  a  simple  stone  at  the  head  of 
his  grave,  records — and  the  loftiest  monument  of  art  could  do 
no  more — that  a  great  and  a  good  man,  having  finished  his 
course  in  faith,  there  awaits  the  great  Judgment.  Children, 
and  grandchildren,  have  since  been  gathered  in  death  around 
these  graves,  which  lie  almost  beneath  the  shadow  of  trees 
planted  by  Mr.  King,  and  within  sight  of  the  house  in  which 
he  lived. 

It  was  desired,  if  possible,  to  introduce  a  glhnpse>of  the 
pretty  village  church  into  the  engraving,  but  the  space  was 
wanting. 

Mr.  John  A.  King,  the  eldest  son  of  Eufus  King,  now 
occupies  the  residence  of  his  father,  and  keeps  up,  with  filial 
reverence  and  inherited  taste,  its  fine  library,  and  its  fine  plan- 
tations. The  engraving  presents  very  accurately  the  appear- 
ance of  the  house  ;  the  closely  shaven  lawn  in  its  front,  and  the 
noble  trees  which  surround  it,  could  find  no.  adequate  repre- 
sentation in  any  picture. 


CLAY. 


THE  Dryads  are  plainly  no  American  divinities.  A  rev- 
erence for  trees  and  groves,  for  woods  and  forests,  is  not 
an  American  passion.  As  our  fathers  and  many  of  ourselves 
have  spent  the  best  of  our  strength  in  wrestling  with,  pros- 
trating, using  up  the  leaf-crowned  monarchs,  gray  with  the 
moss  of  age  ere  Columbus  set  foot  on  Cat  Island,  to  expect 
us  to  love  and  honor  their  quiet  majesty,  their  stately  grace, 
were  like  asking  Natty  Bumpo  or  Leather-stocking  to  bow- 
down  to  and  worship  Pontiac  or  Brandt,  as  the  highest  ideal 
of  Manhood.  An  uncouth  backwoodsman  lately  stated  our 
difficulty  with  immediate  reference  to  another  case,  but  the 


372  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

principle  is  identical :  "  When  I  was  a  boy/'  said  he,  plain- 
tively, uit  was  the  rule  to  love  rum,  and  hate  niggers  ;  now 
they  want  us  to  hate  rum,  and  love  niggers  :  For  my  part,  I 
stick  to  the  old  discipline."  And  so  it  were  unreasonable  to 
expect  the  mass  of  Americans  now  living,  to  go  into  heroics 
over  the  prospect  of  a  comely  and  comfortable  mansion,  sur- 
rounded by  a  spacious  lawn  or  "  opening  "  of  luxuriant  grass, 
embracing  the  roots  and  lightly  shaded  by  the  foliage  of 
thrifty  and  shapely  trees. 

Why  is  it,  then,  that  the  American's  pulse  beats  quicker, 
and  his  heart  throbs  more  proudly  as,  walking  slowly  and 
thoughtfully  up  a  noble  avenue  that  leads  easterly  from  Lex- 
ington,— once  the  capital  and  still  the  most  important  inland 
town  in  Kentucky, — he  finds  the  road  terminating  abruptly  in 
front  of  a  modest,  spacious,  agreeable  mansion,  only  two  sto- 
ries in  height,  and  of  no  great  architectural  pretensions,  and 
remembers  who  caused  its  erection,  and  was  for  many  years  its 
owner  and  master  ? 

That  house,  that  lawn,  with  the  ample  and  fertile  farm 
stretching  a  mile  or  more  in  the  distance  behind  them,  are 
hallowed  to  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen  by  the  fact,  that 
here  lived  and  loved,  enjoyed  and  suffered,  aspired  and  endur- 
ed, the  Orator,  the  Patriot,  the  Statesman,  the  illustrious,  the 
gifted,  the  fiercely  slandered,  the  fondly  idolized  Henry  Clay. 

A  friend  who  visited  Ashland  as  a  stranger  in  May,  1845, 
thus  writes  of  the  place  and  its  master  : 

"  I  have  at  last  realized  one  of  my  dearest  wishes,  that  of 
seeing  Mr.  Clay  at  Ashland.  I  called  on  him  with  a  friend 
this  morning,  but  he  was  absent  on  his  farm,  and  Charles,  his 
freed  slave,  told  us  he  would  not  be  at  home  till  afternoon  ;  so 


CLAY. 


373 


we  returned  to  Lexington,  and,  at  five  p.  m.,  we  retraced  our 
steps  to  Ashland.  Mr.  Clay  had  returned  ;  and  meeting  us 
at  the  door,  took  hold  of  our  hands  before  I  could  even  pre- 
sent a  letter  of  introduction,  and  made  us  welcome  to  his 
home.  His  manners  completely  overcame  all  the  ceremonies 
of  speech  I  had  prepared.  'We  were  soon  perfectly  at  home, 
as  every  one  must  be  with  Henry  Clay,  and  in  half  an  hour's 
time  we  had  talked  about  the  various  sections  of  the  country 
I  had  visited  the  past  year,  Mr.  Clay  occasionally  giving  us 
incidents  and  recollections  of  his  own  life  ;  and  I  felt  as 
though  I  had  known  him  personally  for  years. 

"  Mr.  Clay  has  lived  at  Ashland  forty  years.  The  place 
bore  the  name  when  he  came  to  it,  as  he  says,  probably  on  ac- 
count of  the  ash  timber,  with  which  it  abounds  ;  and  he  has 
made  it  the  most  delightful  retreat  in  all  the  West.  The  es- 
tate is  about  six  hundred  acres  large,  all  under  the  highest 
cultivation,  except  some  two  hundred  acres  of  park,  which  is 
entirely  cleared  of  underbrush  and  small  trees,  and  is,  to  use 
the  words  of  Lord  Morpeth,  who  staid  at  Ashland  nearly  a 
week,  the  nearest  approach  to  an  English  park  of  any  in  this 
country.  It  serves  for  a  noble  pasture,  and  here  I  saw  some 
of  Mr.  Clay's  fine  horses  and  Durham  cattle.  He  is  said  to 
have  some  of  the  finest  in  America  ;  and  if  I  am  able  to  judge 
I  confirm  that  report.  The  larger  part  of  his  farm  is  devoted 
to  wheat,  rye,  hemp,  &c,  and  his  crops  look  most  splendidly. 
He  has  also  paid  great  attention  to  ornamenting  his  land  with 
beautiful  shade  trees,  shrubs,  flowers,  and  fruit  orchards. 
From  the  road  which  passes  his  place  on  the  northwest  side, 
a  carriage -road  leads  up  to  the  house,  lined  with  locust,  cy- 
press, cedar,  and  other  rare  trees,  and  the  rose,  jasmine,  and 


374         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

ivy,  were  clambering  about  them,  and  peeping  through  the 
grass  and  the  boughs,  like  so  many  twinkling  fairies,  as  we 
drove  up.  Mr  Clay's  mansion  is  nearly  hidden  from  the  road 
by  the  trees  surrounding  it,  and  is  as  quiet  and  secluded,  save  to 
the  throng  of  pilgrims  continually  pouring  up  there  to  greet  its 
more  than  royal  possessor,  as  though  it  were  in  the  wilderness." 

Here  let  the  house,  the  lawn,  the  wood,  the  farm,  pass,  if 
they  will,  from  the  mind.  They  are  all  well  in  their  way,  and 
were  doubtless  well  adapted  in  his  time  to  smooth  the  care- 
worn brow,  and  soothe  the  care-fraught  breast  of  the  lofty, 
gallant,  frank,  winning  statesman,  who  gave  and  still  gives 
them  all  their  interest.  Be  our  thoughts  concentrated  on  him 
who  still  lives,  and  speaks,  and  sways,  though  the  clay  which 
enrobed  him  has  been  hid  from  our  sight  for  ever,  rather  than 
on  the  physical  accessories  which,  but  for  him,  though  living 
to  the  corporal  sense,  are  dead  to  the  informing  soul. 

For  it  was  not  here,  in  this  comfortable  mansion,  beneath 
those  graceful,  hospitable,  swaying  trees,  that  The  Great 
Commoner  was  born  and  reared  ;  but  in  a  rude,  homely  farm- 
house,""' which  had  any  man  given  five  hundred  dollars  for,  he 
would  have  been  enormously  swindled,  unless  he  paid  in  Con- 
tinental money, — in  a  primitive,  rural,  thinly  peopled  section 
of  Hanover  County  (near  Richmond),  Virginia  ;  where  his 
father,  Rev.  John  Clay,  a  poor  Baptist  preacher,  lived,  and 
struggled,  and  finally  died,  leaving  a  widow  and  seven  young 
children,  with  no  reliance  but  the  mother's  energies  and  the 
benignant  care  of  the  widow's  and  orphan's  God.  This  was 
in  1782,  near  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  when  so 
much  of  the  country  as  had  not  been  ravaged  by  the  enemy's 

*  See  vignette  title-page  to  this  volume. 


CLAY. 


375 


forces,  had  been  nearly  exhausted  by  our  own,  and  by  the 
incessant  exactions  of  a  protracted,  harassing,  desolating, 
industry-paralyzing  civil  war.  The  fifth  of  these  seven  children 
was  Henry,  born  on  the  12th  of  April,  1777,  who  remained  in 
that  humble  home  until  fourteen  years  of  age,  when  his  mother, 
who  had  married  a  second  time,  being  about  to  remove  to 
Kentucky,  placed  him  in  a  store  at  Eichmond,  under  the  eye 
of  his  oldest  brother,  then  nearly  or  quite  of  age,  but  who  died 
very  soon  afterwards,  leaving  Henry  an  orphan  indeed.  He 
was  thus  thrown  completely  on  his  own  exertions,  when  still 
but  a  child,  and  without  having  enjoyed  any  other  educational 
advantages  than  such  as  were  fitfully  afforded  by  occasional 
private  schools,  in  operation  perhaps  two  or  three  months  in 
a  year,  and  kept  by  teachers  somewhat  ruder  than  the  log 
tenement  which  circumscribed  their  labors.  Such  was  all  the 
"  schooling"  ever  enjoyed  by  the  ragged  urchin,  whose  bright 
summer  days  were  necessarily  given  to  ploughing  and  hoeing  in 
the  corn-fields,  barefoot,  bareheaded,  and  clad  in  coarse  trow- 
sers  and  shirt,  and  whose  daily  tasks  were  diversified  by  frequent 
rides  of  two  or  three  miles  to  the  nearest  grist-mill,  on  a  sorry 
cob,  bestrode  with  no  other  saddle  than  the  grain-bag  ;  whence 
many  of  his  childhood's  neighbors,  contrasting,  long  afterward, 
the  figure  he  cut  in  Congress,  at  Ghent,  in  Paris  or  London, 
with  that  which  they  had  seen  so  often  pass  in  scanty  garb, 
but  jocund  spirits,  on  these  family  errands,  recalled  him  to 
mind  in  his  primitive  occupation  as  The  Mill-Boy  of  the  Slash- 
es, by  which  sobriquet  he  was  fondly  hailed  by  thousands  in 
the  pride  of  his  ripened  renown. 

Forty-five  years  after  his  childish  farewell  to  it,  Henry 
Clay  stood  once  more  (in  1840),  and  for  the  last  time,  in  the 


37G  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

humble  home  of  his  fathers,  and  was  rejoiced  to  find  the  house 
where  he  was  horn  and  reared,  still  essentially  unchanged. 
Venerable  grandames,  who  were  blooming  matrons  in  his  in- 
fancy, had  long  since  indicated  to  their  sons  and  daughters  the 
room  wherein  he  was  born  ;  and  the  spring  whence  the  family 
had  drawn  their  supplies  of  water  wore  a  familiar  aspect,  though 
the  hickory  which  formerly  shaded  it,  and  was  noted  for  the 
excellence  of  its  nuts,  had  passed  away.  Over  the  graves  of 
his  father  and  grandparents  the  plough  had  passed  and  repassed 
for  years,  and  he  only  fixed  their  position  by  the  decaying 
stump  of  a  pear-tree,  which  had  flourished  in  his  childhood, 
and  often  ministered  to  his  gratification.  Beyond  these,  nothing 
answered  to  the  picture  in  his  memory,  and  he  would  not  have 
recognized  the  spot,  had  he  awoke  there  unconscious  of  the 
preceding  journey.  Familiar  groves  and  orchards  had  passed 
away,  while  pines  which  he  left  shrubs,  just  dotting  with  pe- 
rennial green  the  surface  of  the  exhausted  "  old  fields/'  unhap- 
pily too  common  throughout  the  Southern  States,  had  grown 
up  into  dense  and  towering  forests,  which  waved  him  a  stately 
adieu,  as  he  turned  back  refreshed  and  calmed,  to  the  heated 
and  dusty  highway  of  public  life. 

The  boy  Henry,  spent  five  years  in  Kichmond, — only  the 
first  in  the  store  where  his  mother  had  placed  him  ;  three  of 
the  others  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Clerk-in- Chancery  Peter  Tinsley ; 
the  last  in  that  of  Attorney-General  Brooke.  From  Mr.  Tins- 
ley,  he  learned  to  write  a  remarkably  plain,  neat,  and  elegant 
hand, — more  like  a  schoolmistress's  best,  than  a  great  lawyer 
and  politician,  and  this  characteristic  it  retained  to  the  las 
From  Mr.  Tinsley,  Mr.  Brooke,  and  perhaps  still  more  from 
the  illustrious  Chancellor  Wythe,  who  employed  him  as  his 


CLAY. 


377 


amanuensis,  and  repaid  him  with  his  friendship  and  counsel, 
young  Clay  derived  his  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  Common 
Law,  whereof  he  was,  all  his  life,  a  devoted  champion.  At 
length,  in  November,  1797,  when  still  lacking  some  months 
of  his  legal  majority,  he  left  Richmond  and  Virginia,  for  the 
location  he  had  chosen — namely,  the  thriving  village  of  Lex- 
ington, in  the  then  rapidly  growing  Territory  of  Kentucky — 
the  home  of  his  eventful  adult  life  of  more  than  half  a  century. 
How  he  here  was  early  recognized  and  honored  as  a  Man  of 
the  People,  and  rapidly  chosen  (1803)  member  of  the  Legisla- 
ture, once  (1806)  appointed  to  fill  a  vacancy  in  the  United 
States  Senate,  and  soon  after  (1809)  elected  out  of,  and  by 
the  legislature,  to  fill  another  and  longer  vacancy  in  that 
same  dignified  body  ;  chosen  in  1811  a  Member  of  the  more 
popular  branch  of  Congress,  and,  immediately  on  his  appear- 
ance on  its  floor,  elected  its  Speaker — probably  the  highest 
compliment  ever  paid  to  a  public  man  in  this  country — ap- 
pointed thence  (1814)  a  Plenipotentiary  to  Gottingen  (after- 
wards changed  to  Ghent),  to  negotiate  a  Treaty  of  Peace  with 
Great  Britain,  which  was  signed  near  the  close  of  that  year ; 
re-elected,  immediately  on  his  return,  to  a  seat  in  the  House, 
and  to  the  Speakership,  which  he  retained  thenceforth  (except 
during  a  temporary  retirement  from  public  life,  rendered  neces- 
sary by  heavy  pecuniary  losses  as  an  indorser),  down  to  March 
3d,  1825,  when  he  finally  retired  from  the  House  on  being 
appointed  Secretary  of  State  by  President  John  Q.  Adams  ; 
quitting  this  station  for  private  life  on  the  Inauguration  of 
President  Jackson  in  1829,  returning  to  the  Senate  in  1831, 
and  continuing  one  of  its  most  eminent  and  influential  mem- 
bers till  1842,  when  he  retired,  as  he  supposed  for  ever  ;  but 


378         HOMES    OF  AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

was  returned,  by  an  unanimous  vote  of  the  Legislature,  in 
1849,  and  dying  a  Senator  in  Washington  on  the  29th  of  June, 
1852,  aged  more  than  seventy-five  years,  of  which  more  than 
half  had  been  spent  in  the  public  service,  and  nearly  all,  since 
his  majority,  in  active,  ardent,  anxious  familiarity  with  public 
men  and  public  measures, — this  is  no  place  to  set  forth  in 
detail.  The  merest  glance  is  all  we  can  give  to  the  public, 
official  career  of  Henry  Clay. 

For  our  business  is  not  here  with  Tariffs,  Banks,  Vetoes, 
and  Presidential  contests  or  aspirations.  Our  theme  is  the 
man  Henry  Clay, — what  he  was  intrinsically,  and  in  his  daily 
dealings  with,  and  deportment  toward,  his  fellow-beings.  If 
there  be  a  better  mode  of  developing  his  character  than  Plu- 
tarch's, we  have  not  now  time  to  ascertain  and  employ  it,  so 
we  must  e'en  be  content  with  that. 

A  tall,  plain,  poor,  friendless  youth,  was  young  Henry, 
when  he  set  up  his  Ebenezer  in  Lexington,  and,  after  a  few 
months'  preliminary  study,  announced  himself  a  candidate  for 
practice  as  an  attorney.  He  had  not  even  the  means  of  paying 
his  weekly  board.  "  I  remember,"  he  observed  in  his  Lexing- 
ton speech  of  1842,  "how  comfortable  I  thought  I  should  be, 
if  I  could  make  £100  Virginia  money,  per  year  ;  and  with 
what  delight  I  received  my  first  fifteen  shilling  fee.  My  hopes 
were  more  than  realized.  I  immediately  rushed  into  a  lucrative 
practice." 

Local  tradition  affirms  that  the  Bar  of  Lexington,  being 
unusually  strong  when  Mr.  Clay  first  appeared  thereat,  an 
understanding  had  grown  up  among  the  seniors,  that  they 
would  systematically  discountenance  the  advent  of  any  new 
aspirants,  so  as  to  keep  the  business  remunerating,  and  pre- 


CLAY. 


379 


serve  each  other  from  the  peril  of  being  starved  out.  It  was 
some  time,  therefore,  before  young  Clay  obtained  a  case  to 
manage  in  Court ;  and  when  he  did  appear  there,  the  old  heads 
greeted  the  outset  of  his  argument  with  winks,  and  nods,  and 
meaning  smiles,  and  titters,  intended  to  disconcert  and  embar- 
rass him.  So  they  did  for  a  few  minutes  ;  but  they  soon  exas- 
perated and  roused  him.  His  eyes  flashed,  and  sentence  after 
sentence  came  pouring  rapidly  out,  replete  with  the  fire  of 
eloquence  and  genius.  At  length,  one  of  the  old  heads  leaned 
across  the  table  and  whispered  to  another,  "  I  think  ive  must 
let  this  young  man  pass."  Of  course  they  must ! — the  case 
was  as  plain  as  the  portliest  of  noses  on  the  most  rubicund  of 
faces.  Henry  Clay  passed,  nem.  con.,  and  his  position  and 
success  at  that  Bar  were  never  more  disputed  nor  doubted. 

General  Cass,  in  his  remarks  in  the  Senate  on  the  occasion 
of  Mr.  Clay's  death,  has  the  following  interesting  reminiscence  : 

"  It  is  almost  half  a  century  since  he  passed  through  Chili- 
cothe,  then  the  seat  of  government  of  Ohio,  where  I  was  a 
member  of  the  Legislature,  on  his  way  to  take  his  place  in  this 
very  body,  which  is  now  listening  to  this  reminiscence,  and  to 
a  feeble  tribute  of  regard  from  one  who  then  saw  him  for  the 
first  time,  but  who  can  never  forget  the  impression  he  produced 
by  the  charms  of  his  conversation,  the  frankness  of  his  manner, 
and  the  high  qualities  with  which  he  was  endowed/' 

That  an  untaught,  portionless  rustic,  reared  not  only  in  one 
of  the  rudest  localities,  but  in  the  most  troublous  and  critical 
era  of  our  country,  when  the  general  poverty  and  insecurity 
rendered  any  attention  to  personal  culture  difficult,  almost 
impossible,  and  graduating  from  a  log  school-house,  should  have 
been  celebrated  for  the  union  in  his  manners,  of  grace  with 


380 


HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


frankness,  ease  with  fascination,  is  not  unworthy  of  remark. 
Of  the  fact,  those  who  never  knew  Mr.  Clay  personally,  may 
have  abundant  attestations,  which  none  others  will  need. 

While  in  Europe  as  a  negotiator  for  Peace  with  Great 
Britain,  Mr.  Clay  was  brought  into  immediate  and  familiar 
contact,  not  only  with  his  associates,  the  urbane  and  cultivated 
John  Quincy  Adams,  whose  life  had  been  divided  between 
seminaries  and  courts ;  the  philosophic  Gallatin  and  the 
chivalric  Bayard,  but  also  with  the  noble  and  aristocratic 
Commissioners  of  Great  Britain,  and  with  many  others  of  like 
breeding  and  position,  to  whom  the  importance  of  their  mission, 
its  protracted  labors  and  its  successful  result,  commended  our 
Plenipotentiaries.  A  single  anecdote  will  illustrate  the  im- 
pression he  every  where  produced.  An  octogenarian  British 
Earl,  who  had  retired  from  public  life  because  of  his  years,  but 
who  still  cherished  a  natural  interest  in  public  men  and  meas- 
ures, being  struck  by  the  impression  made  in  the  aristocratic 
circles  of  London  by  the  American  Commissioners,  then  on 
their  way  home  from  Ghent,  requested  a  friend  to  bring  them 
to  see  him  at  his  house,  to  which  his  growing  infirmities  con- 
fined him.  The  visit  was  promptly  and  cheerfully  paid,  and 
the  obliging  friend  afterwards  inquired  of  the  old  Lord  as  to 
the  impression  the  Americans  had  made  upon  him.  "  Ah  ! " 
said  the  veteran,  with  the  u  light  of  other  days"  gleaming  from 
his  eyes,  "  I  liked  them  all,  but  /  liked  the  Kentucky  man  best!' 
It  was  so  every  where. 

Qne  specimen  has  been  preserved  of  Mr.  Clay's  felicity  of 
repartee  and  charm  of  conversation,  as  exhibited  while  in 
Paris,  immediately  after  the  conclusion  of  Peace  at  Ghent. 
He  was  there  introduced  to  the  famous  Madame  de  Stael, 


CLAY. 


381 


who  cordially  addressed  him  with — "  Ah,  Mr.  Clay  !  I  have 
been  in  England,  and  have  been  battling  your  cause  for  you 
there/'  "  I  know  it,  madame  ;  we  heard  of  your  powerful 
interposition,  and  are  grateful  and  thankful  for  it."  "  They 
were  much  enraged  against  you,"  said  she  :  "so  much  so,  that 
they  at  one  time  thought  seriously  of  sending  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  to  command  their  armies  against  you  !  "  "I  am 
very  sorry,  madame,"  replied  Mr.  Clay,  "  that  they  did  not 
send  his  Grace."  "  Why  ?  "  asked  she,  surprised.  "  Because, 
madame,  if  he  had  beaten  us,  we  should  have  been  in  the  con- 
dition of  Europe,  without  disgrace.  But,  if  we  had  been  so 
fortunate  as  to  defeat  him,  we  should  have  greatly  added  to 
the  renown  of  our  arms." 

At  his  next  meeting  with  "  Corinne,"  at  her  own  house, 
Mr.  Clay  was  introduced  by  her  to  the  conqueror  at  Waterloo, 
when  she  related  the  above  conversation.  The  Duke  promptly 
responded  that,  had  it  been  his  fortune  to  serve  against  the 
Americans,  and  to  triumph  over  them,  he  should  indeed  have 
regarded  that  triumph  as  the  proudest  of  his  achievements. 

Mr.  Clay  was  in  London  when  the  tidings  of  Waterloo 
arrived,  and  set  the  British  frantic  with  exultation.  He  was 
dining  one  day  at  Lord  Castlereagh's,  while  Bonaparte's  po- 
sition was  still  uncertain,  as  he  had  disappeared  from  Paris, 
and  fled  none  knew  whither.  The  most  probable  conjecture 
was  that  he  had  embarked  at  some  little  port  for  the  United 
States,  and  would  probably  make  his  way  thither,  as  he  was 
always  lucky  on  water.  "  If  he  reaches  your  shores,  Mr. 
Clay,"  gravely  inquired  Lord  Liverpool  (one  of  the  Ministers), 
"  will  he  not  give  you  a  great  deal  of  trouble  ?  "  "  Not  the 
least,"  was  the  prompt  reply  of  the  Kentuckian  ;  "we  shall 


382         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

be  very  glad  to  receive  him  ;  to  treat  him  with  all  hospitality, 
and  very  soon  make  him  a  good  democrat."  A  general  laugh 
here  restored  the  hilarity  of  the  party. 

The  magnetism  of  Mr.  Clay's  manner  and  conversation 
have  perhaps  received  no  stronger  testimony  than  that  of  Gen. 
Glascock,  a  political  antagonist,  who  came  into  Congress  from 
Georgia,  during  the  fierce  struggle  which  followed  the  removal 
of  the  Deposits.  "  Gen.  Glascock/'  said  a  mutual  friend,  at 
a  party  one  evening,  "  shall  I  make  you  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Clay  ?  "  "  No,  Sir  !  "  was  the  prompt  and  stern  response  ; 
"  I  choose  not  to  be  fascinated  and  moulded  by  him,  as  friend 
and  foe  appear  to  be,  and  I  shall  therefore  decline  his  ac- 
quaintance." 

Mr.  Clay  had  a  natural  repugnance  to  caucuses,  con- 
ventions, and  the  kindred  contrivances  whereby  great  men  are 
elaborated  out  of  very  small  materials,  and  was  uniformly  a 
candidate  for  Congress  "  on  his  own  hook,"  with  no  fence  be- 
tween him  and  his  constituents.  Only  once  in  the  course  of 
his  long  Kepresentative  career  was  he  obliged  to  canvass  for 
his  election,  and  he  was  never  defeated,  nor  ever  could  be,  be- 
fore a  public  that  he  could  personally  meet  and  address.  The 
one  searching  ordeal  to  which  he  was  subjected,  followed  the 
passage  of  the  "Compensation  Act"  of  1816,  whereby  Con- 
gress substituted  for  its  own  per  diem  a  fixed  salary  of  $1,500 
to  each  Member.  This  act  raised  a  storm  throughout  the 
country,  which  prostrated  most  of  its  supporters.  The  hos- 
tility excited  was  especially  strong  in  the  West,  then  very 
poor,  especially  in  money  :  $1,500  then,  being  equal  to  $4000 
at  present.  John  Pope  (afterward  Gen.  Jackson's  Governor 
of  Arkansas),  one  of  the  ablest  men  in  Kentucky,  a  federalist 


CLAY.  383 

of  the  old  school,  and  a  personal  antagonist  of  Mr.  Clay,  took 
the  stump  as  his  competitor  for  the  seat,  and  gave  him  enough 
to  do  through  the  canvass.  They  met  in  discussion  at  several 
local  assemblages,  and  finally  in  a  pitched  battle  at  Higbie  ; 
a  place  central  to  the  three  counties  composing  the  district, 
where  the  whole  people  collected  to  hear  them.  Pope  had  the 
district  with  him  in  his  denunciation  of  the  Compensation 
Bill,  while  Clay  retorted  with  effect,  by  pressing  home  on  his 
antagonist  the  embittered  and  not  very  consistent  hostility  of 
the  latter  to  the  war  with  Great  Britain,  recently  concluded, 
which  uniformly  had  been  very  popular  in  Kentucky.  The 
result  was  decisive  :  Mr.  Clay  was  re-elected  by  about  six 
hundred  majority. 

That  excited  canvass  was  fruitful  of  characteristic  inci- 
dents like  the  following : 

While  traversing  the  district,  Mr.  Clay  encountered  an 
old  hunter,  who  had  always  before  been  his  warm  friend,  but 
was  now  opposed  to  his  re-election  on  account  of  the  Com- 
pensation Bill.  "  Have  you  a  good  rifle,  my  friend  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Clay.  «  Yes."  "  Did  it  ever  flash  ?  "  "  Once  only," 
he  replied.  "  What  did  you  do  with  it — throw  it  away  ?  " 
"  No,  I  picked  the  flint,  tried  it  again,  and  brought  down  the 
game."  "  Have  /  ever  flashed  but  upon  the  Compensation 
Bill  ?  "  "  No  !"  "  Will  you  throw  me  away  ?"  "  No,  no  ! " 
exclaimed  the  hunter  with  enthusiasm,  nearly  overpowered  by 
his  feelings  ;  "I  will  pick  the  flint,  and  try  you  again ! " 
He  was  afterward  a  warm  supporter  of  Mr.  Clay. 

An  Irish  barber  in  Lexington,  Jerry  Murphy  by  name, 
who  had  always  before  been  a  zealous  admirer  and  active  sup- 
porter of  Mr.  Clay,  was  observed  during  this  canvass  to  main- 


384         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

tain  a  studied  silence.  That  silence  was  ominous,  especially 
as  lie  was  known  to  be  under  personal  obligation  to  Mr.  Clay 
for  legal  assistance  to  rescue  him  from  various  difficulties  in 
which  his  hasty  temper  had  involved  him.  At  length,  an 
active  and  prominent  partisan  of  the  speaker  called  on  the  bar- 
ber, with  whom  he  had  great  influence,  and  pressed  him  to  dis- 
pel the  doubt  that  hung  over  his  intentions  by  a  frank  declara- 
tion in  favor  of  his  old  favorite.  Looking  his  canvasser  in  the 
eye,  with  equal  earnestness  and  shrewdness,  Murphy  respond- 
ed ;  "I  tell  you  what,  docthur ;  I  mane  to  vote  for  the  man 
that  can  put  but  one  hand  into  the  Treasury."  (Mr.  Pope  had 
lost  one  of  his  arms  in  early  life,  and  the  humor  of  Pat's  al- 
lusion to  this  circumstance,  in  connection  with  Mr.  Clay's  sup- 
port of  the  Compensation  Bill,  was  inimitable.) 

Mr.  Clay  was  confessedly  the  best  presiding  officer  that 
any  deliberative  body  in  America  has  ever  known,  and  none 
was  ever  more  severely  tried.  The  intensity  and  bitterness 
of  party  feeling  during  the  earlier  portion  of  his  Speakership 
cannot  now  be  realized  except  by  the  few  who  remember  those 
days.  It  was  common  at  that  time  in  New  England  town- 
meetings,  for  the  rival  parties  to  take  opposite  sides  of  the 
broad  aisle  in  the  meetinghouse,  and  thus  remain,  hardly 
speaking  across  the  line  separation,  from  morning  till  night. 
Hon.  Josiah  Quincy,  the  Representative  of  Boston,  was  dis- 
tinguished in  Congress  for  the  ferocity  of  his  assaults  on  the 
policy  of  Jefferson  and  Madison  ;  and  between  him  and  Mr. 
Clay  there  were  frequent  and  sharp  encounters,  barely  kept 
within  the  limits  prescribed  by  parliamentary  decorum.  At  a 
later  period,  the  eccentric  and  distinguished  John  Randolph, 
the  master  of  satire  and  invective  ;  and  who,  though  not 


CLAY. 


385 


avowedly  a  Federalist,  opposed  nearly  every  act  of  the  Demo- 
crat Administrations  of  1801-16,  and  was  the  unfailing  an- 
tagonist of  every  measure  proposed  or  supported  by  Mr.  Clay, 
was  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  the  Speaker  for  years.  Many  were 
the  passages  between  them  in  which  blows  were  given  and 
taken,  whereof  the  gloves  of  parliamentary  etiquette  could  not 
break  the  force  :  the  War,  the  Tariff,  the  early  recognition  of 
Greek  and  South  American  Independence,  the  Missouri  Com- 
promise, &c.  &c.,  being  strenuously  advocated  by  Mr.  Clay 
and  opposed  by  Mr.  Randolph.  But  of  these  this  is  no  place 
to  speak.  Innumerable  appeals  from  Mr.  Clay's  decisions,  as 
Speaker,  were  made  by  the  orator  of  Koanoke,  but  no  one  of 
them  was  ever  sustained  by  the  House.  At  length,  after  Mr. 
Clay  had  left  Congress,  and  Mr.  Kandolph  been  transferred  to 
the  Senate,  a  bloodless  duel  between  them  grew  out  of  the 
Virginian's  unmeasured  abuse  of  the  Kentuckian's  agency  in 
electing  J.  Q.  Adams  to  the  Presidency  ;  a  duel  which  seems 
to  have  had  the  effect  of  softening,  if  not  dissipating  Ran- 
dolph's rancor  against  Mr.  Clay.  Though  evermore  a  political 
antagonist,  his  personal  antipathy  was  no  longer  manifested  ; 
and  one  of  the  last  visits  of  Randolph  to  the  Capitol,  when 
dying  of  consumption,  was  made  for  the  avowed  purpose  of 
hearing  in  the  Senate  the  well-known  voice  of  the  eloquent 
Sage  of  Ashland. 

On  the  floor  of  the  House,  Mr.  Clay  was  often  impetuous 
in  discussion,  and  delighted  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  debate, 
and  modify  the  sternness  of  antagonism  by  a  sportive  jest  or 
lively  repartee.  On  one  occasion,  Gen.  Alexander  Smythe  of 
Virginia,  who  often  afflicted  the  House  by  the  verbosity  of  his 
harangues  and  the  multiplicity  of  his  dry  citations,  had  paused 

25 


386  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

in  the  middle  of  a  speech  which  seemed  likely  to  endure  for 
ever,  to  send  to  the  library  for  a  book  from  which  he  wished 
to  note  a  passage.  Fixing  his  eye  on  Mr.  Clay,  who  sat  near 
him,  he  observed  the  Kentuckian  writhing  in  his  seat  as  if  his 
patience  had  already  been  exhausted.  "  You,  sir/'  remarked 
Smythe  addressing  the  Speaker,  "speak  for  the  present  genera- 
tion ;  but  I  speak  for  posterity."  "  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Clay,  "and 
you  seem  resolved  to  speak  until  the  arrival  of  your  auditory." 

Kevolutionary  pensions  were  a  source  of  frequent  passages 
between  eastern  and  western  members  ;  the  greater  portion 
of  those  pensions  being  payable  to  eastern  survivors  of  the 
struggle.  On  one  occasion  when  a  Pension  Bill  was  under 
discussion,  Hon.  Enoch  Lincoln  (afterwards  Governor  of 
Maine)  was  dilating  on  the  services  and  sufferings  of  these 
veterans,  and  closed  with  the  patriotic  adjuration,  "  Soldiers 
of  the  Revolution  !  live  for  ever  !  "  Mr.  Clay  followed,  coun- 
selling moderation  in  the  grant  of  pensions,  that  the  country 
might  not  be  overloaded  and  rendered  restive  by  their  burden, 
and  turning  to  Mr.  Lincoln  with  a  smile,  observed — "  I  hope 
my  worthy  friend  will  not  insist  on  the  very  great  duration  of 
these  pensions  which  he  has  suggested.  Will  he  not  consent, 
by  way  of  a  compromise,  to  a  term  of  nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine  years  instead  of  eternity  ?  " 

A  few  sentences  culled  from  the  remarks  in  Congress 
elicited  by  his  death,  will  fitly  close  this  hasty  daguerreotype  of 
the  man  Henry  Clay. 

Mr.  Underwood  (his  colleague)  observed  in  Senate  that 
"  his  physical  and  mental  organization  eminently  qualified  him 
to  become  a  great  and  impressive  orator.  His  person  was  tall, 
slender  and  commanding.    His  temperament,  ardent,  fearless, 


C  L  A  Y. 


387 


and  full  of  hope.  His  countenance,  clear,  expressive,  and  va- 
riable— indicating  the  emotion  which  predominated  at  the 
moment  with  exact  similitude.  His  voice,  cultivated  and 
modulated  in  harmony  with  the  sentiment  he  desired  to  ex- 
press, fell  upon  the  ear  with  the  melody  of  enrapturing  music. 
His  eye  beaming  with  intelligence  and  flashing  with  corusca- 
tions of  genius.  His  gestures  and  attitudes  graceful  and 
natural.  These  personal  advantages  won  the  prepossessions  of 
an  audience  even  before  his  intellectual  powers  began  to  move 
his  hearers  ;  and  when  his  strong  common  sense,  his  profound 
reasoning,  his  clear  conceptions  of  his  subject  in  all  its  bear- 
ings, and  his  striking  and  beautiful  illustrations,  united  with 
such  personal  qualities,  were  brought  to  the  discussion  of  any 
question,  his  audience  was  enraptured,  convinced  and  led  by 
the  orator  as  if  enchanted  by  the  lyre  of  Orpheus. 

"  No  man  was  ever  blessed  by  his  Creator  with  faculties  of 
a  higher  order  than  Mr.  Clay.  In  the  quickness  of  his  percep- 
tions, and  the  rapidity  with  which  his  conclusions  were  formed, 
he  had  few  equals  and  no  superiors.  He  was  eminently  en- 
dowed with  a  nice  discriminating  taste  for  order,  symmetry, 
and  beauty.  He  detected  in  a  moment  every  thing  out  of 
place  or  deficient  in  his  room,  upon  his  farm,  in  his  own  or  the 
dress  of  others.  He  was  a  skilful  judge  of  the  form  and 
qualities  of  his  domestic  animals,  which  he  delighted  to  raise 
on  his  farm.  I  could  give  you  instances  of  the  quickness  and 
minuteness  of  his  keen  faculty  of  observation,  which  never 
overlooked  any  thing.  A  want  of  neatness  and  order  was  of- 
fensive to  him.  He  was  particular  and  neat  in  his  handwrit- 
ing and  his  apparel.    A  slovenly  blot  or  negligence  of  any 


388  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


sort  met  his  condemnation  ;  while  he  was  so  organized  that 
he  attended  to,  and  arranged  little  things  to  please  and  gratify 
his  natural  love  for  neatness,  order,  and  beauty,  his  great  in- 
tellectual faculties  grasped  all  the  subjects  of  jurisprudence 
and  politics  with  a  facility  amounting  almost  to  intuition.  As 
a  lawyer,  he  stood  at  the  head  of  his  profession.  As  a  states- 
man, his  stand  at  the  head  of  the  Republican  Whig  party  for 
nearly  half  a  century,  establishes  his  title  to  pre-eminence 
among  his  illustrious  associates. 

"  Mr.  Clay  was  deeply  versed  in  all  the  springs  of  human 
action.  He  had  read  and  studied  biography  and  history. 
Shortly  after  I  left  college,  I  had  occasion  to  call  on  him  in 
Frankfort,  where  he  was  attending  court,  and  well  I  remember 
to  have  found  him  with  Plutarch's  Lives  in  his  hands.  No 
one  better  than  he  knew  how  to  avail  himself  of  human 
motives,  and  all  the  circumstances  which  surrounded  a  subject, 
or  could  present  themselves  with  more  force  and  skill  to  ac- 
complish the  object  of  an  argument." 

"  Bold  and  determined  as  Mr.  Clay  was  in  all  his  actions,  he 
was,  nevertheless,  conciliating.  He  did  not  obstinately  adhere 
to  things  impracticable.  If  he  could  not  accomplish  the  best, 
he  contented  himself  with  the  nighest  approach  to  it.  He  has 
been  the  great  compromiser  of  those  political  agitations  and 
opposing  opinions  which  have,  in  the  belief  of  thousands,  at 
different  times,  endangered  the  perpetuity  of  our  Federal  Gov- 
ernment and  Union. 

"  Mr.  Clay  was  no  less  remarkable  for  his  admirable  social 
qualities,  than  for  his  intellectual  abilities.  As  a  companion, 
he  was  the  delight  of  his  friends  ;  and  no  man  ever  had  better 


CLAY. 


389 


or  truer.  No  guest  ever  thence  departed,  without  feeling 
happier  for  his  visit." 

Mr.  Hunter  of  Virginia  (a  political  antagonist)  following, 
observed  :  "  It  ma}'  be  truly  said  of  Mr.  Clay,  that  he  was 
no  exaggerator.  He  looked  at  events  through  neither  end  of 
the  telescope,  but  surveyed  them  with  the  natural  and  the 
naked  eye.  He  had  the  capacity  of  seeing  things  as  the  people 
saw  them,  and  of  feeling  things  as  the  people  felt  them.  He 
had,  sir,  beyond  any  other  man  whom  I  have  ever  seen,  the 
true  mesmeric  touch  of  the  orator, — the  rare  art  of  transferring 
his  impulses  to  others.  Thoughts,  feelings,  emotions,  came 
from  the  ready  mould  of  his  genius,  radiant  and  glowing,  and 
communicated  their  own  warmth  to  every  heart  which  received 
them.  His,  too,  was  the  power  of  wielding  the  higher  and 
intenser  forms  of  passion,  with  a  majesty  and  an  ease,  which 
none  but  the  great  masters  of  the  human  heart  can  ever 
employ." 

Mr.  Seward  of  New- York,  said  :  "He  was  indeed  eloquent 
— all  the  world  knows  that.  He  held  the  key  to  the  hearts  of 
his  countrymen,  and  he  turned  the  wards  within  them  with  a 
skill  attained  by  no  other  master. 

"  But  eloquence  was  nevertheless  only  an  instrument,  and 
one  of  many,  that  he  used.  His  conversation,  his  gestures, 
his  very  look,  were  magisterial,  persuasive,  seductive,  irresistible. 
And  his  appliance  of  all  these  was  courteous,  patient,  and  in- 
defatigable. Defeat  only  inspired  him  with  new  resolution. 
He  divided  opposition  by  the  assiduity  of  address,  while  he 
rallied  and  strengthened  his  own  bands  of  supporters  by  the 
confidence  of  success,  which,  feeling  himself,  he  easily  inspired 


390  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

among  his  followers.  His  affections  were  high,  and  pure,  and 
generous,  and  the  chiefest  among  them  was  that  one  which  the 
great  Italian  poet  designated  as  the  charity  of  native  land. 
In  him,  that  charity  was  an  enduring  and  overpowering  enthu- 
siasm, and  it  influenced  all  his  sentiments  and  conduct,  render- 
ing him  more  impartial  between  conflicting  interests  and 
sections,  than  any  other  statesman  who  has  lived  since  the 
Revolution.  Thus,  with  great  versatility  of  talent,  and  the 
most  catholic  equality  of  favor,  he  identified  every  question, 
whether  of  domestic  administration  or  foreign  policy,  with  his 
own  great  name,  and  so  became  a  perpetual  Tribune  of  the 
People.  He  needed  only  to  pronounce  in  favor  of  a  measure 
or  against  it,  here,  and  immediately  popular  enthusiasm,  excited 
as  by  a  magic  wand,  was  felt,  overcoming  and  dissolving  all 
opposition  in  the  Senate  Chamber." 

In  the  House,  about  the  same  time,  Mr.  Breckenridge  of 
Kentucky  (democrat),  spoke  as  follows  : 

"  The  life  of  Mr.  Clay,  sir,  is  a  striking  example  of  the 
abiding  fame  which  surely  awaits  the  direct  and  candid  states- 
man. The  entire  absence  of  equivocation  or  disguise  in  all 
his  acts,  was  his  master-key  to  the  popular  heart ;  for  while 
the  people  will  forgive  the  errors  of  a  bold  and  open  nature, 
he  sins  past  forgiveness  who  deliberately  deceives  them.  Hence 
Mr.  Clay,  though  often  defeated  in  his  measures  of  policy, 
always  secured  the  respect  of  his  opponents  without  losing  the 
confidence  of  his  friends.  He  never  paltered  in  a  double  sense. 
The  country  never  was  in  doubt  as  to  his  opinions  or  his 
purposes.  In  all  the  contests  of  his  time,  his  position  on  great 
public  questions  was  as  clear  as  the  sun  in  the  cloudless  sky. 


CLAY. 


39] 


Sir,  standing  by  the  grave  of  this  great  man,  and  considering 
these  things,  how  contemptible  does  appear  the  mere  legerde- 
main of  politics  !  What  a  reproach  is  his  life  on  that  false 
policy  which  would  trifle  with  a  great  and  upright  people  ! 
If  I  were  to  write  his  epitaph,  I  would  inscribe  as  the  highest 
eulogy,  on  the  stone  which  shall  mark  his  resting-place,  '  Here 
lies  a  man  who  was  in  the  public  service  for  fifty  years,  and 
never  attempted  to  deceive  his  countrymen/  " 

Let  me  close  this  too  hasty  and  superficial  sketch,  with  a 
brief  citation  from  Kev.  C.  M.  Butler,  Chaplain  of  the  Senate, 
who,  in  his  funeral  discourse  in  the  Senate  Chamber,  said  : 

"  A  great  mind,  a  great  heart,  a  great  orator,  a  great  career, 
have  been  consigned  to  history.  She  will  record  his  rare  gifts 
of  deep  insight,  keen  discrimination,  clear  statement,  rapid 
combination,  plain,  direct,  and  convincing  logic.  She  will 
love  to  dwell  on  that  large,  generous,  magnanimous,  open, 
forgiving  heart.  She  will  linger  with  fond  delight  on  the 
recorded  or  traditional  stories  of  an  eloquence  that  was  so 
masterful  and  stirring,  because  it  was  but  himself  struggling 
to  come  forth  on  the  living  words — because,  though  the  words 
were  brave  and  strong,  and  beautiful  and  melodious,  it  was 
felt  that,  behind  them,  there  was  a  soul  braver,  stronger,  more 
beautiful,  and  more  melodious,  than  language  could  express." 

Such  was  the  master  of  Ashland,  the  man  Henry  Clay  ! 


After  this  article  was  in  type,  we  received  from  a  Western 
paper  the  following  notice  of  the  sale  of  the  Ashland  estate. 
"  We  are  glad  to  learn  that  Ashland,  the  home  of  Henry 


392  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Clay,  which  was  sold  September  20th,  at  public  auction,  was 
purchased  by  James  B.  Clay,  eldest  son  of  the  deceased  states- 
man. The  Ashland  homestead  contained  about  337  acres.  It 
lies  just  without  the  limits  of  the  city  of  Lexington.  The  coun- 
try immediately  surrounding  it,  is  justly  regarded  as  the  garden 
spot  of  the  West,  and  Ashland,  above  all  others,  as  the  most 
beautiful  place  in  the  world.  The  associations  about  it  are  of 
the  most  interesting  character.  When  Kentucky  was,  in  fact, 
the  ( dark  and  bloody  ground/  the  country  around  Lexington 
was  the  only  oasis — every  where  else,  the  tomahawk  and  the 
rifle  were  more  potent  than  laws.  How  many  incidents  of 
these  terrible  days  are  garnered  in  the  minds  of  the  descend- 
ants of  the  old  families  of  Kentucky  !  In  those  thrilling  days, 
Ashland  belonged  to  Daniel  Boone,  whose  name  is  connected 
with  many  of  the  daring  tragedies  enacted  in  the  then  Far 
West.  It  passed  from  his  hands  into  those  of  Nathaniel 
Hart,  who  fell,  gloriously  fighting,  in  the  battle  at  the  Eiver 
Kaisin,  where  so  many  Kentuckians  offered  up  their  lives  in 
defence  of  their  country.  Henry  Clay  married  Lucretia  Hart, 
to  whom  the  demesne  of  Ashland  descended. 

u  There  is  so  much  of  the  Arab  in  the  habits  of  the  Ameri- 
cans,— there  is  so  much  migratoriness,  and  so  little  love  for 
old  homesteads, — we  were  afraid  the  children  of  Henry  Clay 
would  allow  classic  Ashland  to  pass  into  other  and  alien  hands. 
But  our  fears  are  to  gladness  changed ;  and  Ashland  is  still 
the  dwelling-place  of  the  Clays. 

"  Mr.  Clay  was  thoroughly  versed  in  agricultural  matters,  and 
was  never  better  contented  (as  the  editor  of  the  Ohio  Journal 
truly  remarks),  than  when  surrounded  by  his  neighbors,  many 


CLAY. 


393 


of  whom  knew  and  loved  him  when  he  was  quite  young  and 
obscure,  and  afterwards  rejoiced  at  his  fame,  and  followed  his 
fortunes  through  every  phase  of  a  long  and  eventful  career. 
The  residence  does  not  present  any  imposing  appearance,  but  is 
of  a  plain,  neat,  and  rather  antique  architectural  character,  and 
the  grounds  immediately  surrounding  it  are  beautifully  adorned, 
and  traversed  by  walks  ;  not  in  accordance  with  the  foolish 
and  fastidious  taste  of  the  present  day,  for  this,  in  every  thing 
connected  with  the  place  has  been  neglected,  and  the  only  end 
seems  to  have  been  to  represent  Nature  in  its  proudest  and 
most  imposing  grandeur.  Many  of  the  walks  are  retired,  and 
are  of  a  serpentine  character,  with  here  and  there,  in  some  se- 
cluded spot  along  their  windings,  a  rude  and  unpolished  bench 
upon  which  to  recline.  The  trees  are  mostly  pines  of  a  large 
growth,  and  stand  close  together,  casting  a  deep  and  sombre 
shade  on  every  surrounding  object.  The  reflections  of  one  on 
visiting  Ashland  are  of  the  most  interesting  character.  Every 
object  seems  invested  with  an  interest,  and  although  the  spirit 
with  whose  memory  they  are  associated,  has  fled,  one  cannot 
repel  the  conviction,  that  while  reposing  under  its  silent  and 
sequestered  shades,  he  is  still  surrounded  by  something  sublime 
and  great.  Old  memories  of  the  past  come  back  upon  him, 
and  a  thousand  scenes  connected  with  the  life  and  history  of 
Henry  Clay,  will  will  force  themselves  upon  you.  The  great 
monarchs  of  the  forest  that  now  stretch  their  limbs  aloft  in 
proud  and  peerless  majesty,  have  all,  or  nearly  all  been  planted 
by  his  hand,  and  are  now  not  unfit  emblems  of  the  towering 
greatness  of  him  who  planted  them. 

"  The  walks,  the  flowers,  the  garden  and  the  groves,  all,  all 


394  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

are  consecrated,  and  have  all  been  witnesses  of  his  presence 
and  his  care.  In  the  groves  through  which  you  wander,  were 
nursed  the  mighty  schemes  of  Statesmanship,  which  have  as- 
tonished the  world  and  terrified  the  tyrant,  beat  back  the  evil 
counsels  for  his  country's  ruin,  and  bound  and  fettered  his 
countrymen  in  one  common  and  indissoluble  bond  of  Union." 


! 


\ 


^  N 


N 


i  5 


5li| 


^5 


i  1     U  t 


a  4 


Call}  flint. 


CALHOUN. 


IN  writing  the  lives  of  our  American  Statesmen,  we  might 
say  of  almost  any  of  them,  "that  he  was  born  in  such  a 
year,  that  he  was  sent  to  the  common  school  or  to  college,  that 
he  studied  law,  that  he  was  chosen,  first  a  member  of  the 
State  Legislature,  and  thne  of  the  National  Congress,  that  he 
became  successively,  a  Senator,  a  foreign  Ambassador,  a  Secre- 
tary of  State,  or  a  President,  and  that  finally  he  retired  to  his 
paternal  acres,  to  pass  a  venerable  old  age,  amid  the  general 
respect  and  admiration  of  the  whole  country/'  This  would 
be  a  true  outline  in  the  main,  of  the  practical  workings  and 
doings  of  nine  out  of  ten  of  them  :  but  in  filling  in  the  de- 
tails of  the  sketch,  in  clothing  the  dry  skeleton  of  facts  with 
the  flesh  and  blood  of  the  living  reality,  it  would  be  found 
that  this  apparent  similarity  of  development  had  given  rise  to 
the  utmost  diversity  and  individuality  of  character,  and  that 
scarcely  any  two  of  our  distinguished  men,  though  born  and 
bred  under  the  same  influence,  bore  even  a  family  resemblance. 
It  is  said  by  the  foreign  writers,  by  De  Tocqueville  especially, 
that  very  little  originality  and  independence  of  mind  can  be 
expected  in  a  democracy,  where  the  force  of  the  majority 
crushes  all  opinions  and  characters  into  a  dead  and  leaden 


398         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

uniformity.  But  the  study  of  our  actual  history  rather  tends 
to  the  opposite  conclusion,  and  leads  us  to  believe  that  the 
land  of  Washington,  Franklin,  Jefferson,  Patrick  Henry,  the 
Adamses,  Clay,  Webster  and  Calhoun,  is  favorable  to  the  pro- 
duction of  distinct,  peculiar,  and  decided  natures.  At  least 
we  may  be  sure,  that  our  annals  are  no  more  wanting  than 
those  of  other  nations,  in  original,  self-formed,  and  self-depend- 
ent men. 

Among  these,  there  was  no  one  more  peculiar  or  more  un- 
like any  prototype,  than  John  C.  Calhoun,  of  South  Carolina. 
In  the  structure  of  his  mind,  in  the  singular  tenacity  of  his 
purposes,  in  the  rare  dignity  and  elevation  of  his  character, 
and  in  the  remarkable  political  system  to  which  he  adhered, 
he  was  wholly  sui  generis,  standing  out  from  the  number  of 
his  forerunners  and  contemporaries  in  bold,  positive  and  angu- 
lar relief.  He  could  only  have  been  what  he  was,  in  the 
country,  and  during  the  times,  in  which  he  flourished  :  he  was 
a  natural  growth  of  our  American  society  and  institutions : 
had  formed  himself  by  no  models  ancient  or  modern  ;  and  the 
great  leading  principles  of  his  thought  faithfully  rendered  in 
all  Ins  conduct,  were  as  much  an  individual  possession  as  the 
figure  of  his  body  or  the  features  of  his  face.  In  seeing  him,  in 
hearing  him  speak,  or  in  reading  his  books,  no  one  was  ever 
likely  to  confound  him  with  any  second  person. 

Mr.  Calhoun  was  born  in  the  Abbeville  District  of  South 
Carolina,  on  the  18th  of  March,  1782.  His  parents  on  both 
sides  were  of  Irish  extraction,  who  had  first  settled  in  Penn- 
sylvania, and  then  in  Virginia, §  whence  they  were  driven  by 
the  Indians,  at  the  time  of  Braddock' s  defeat,  to  South  Caro- 
lina.   The  father  appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  the  most 


CALHOUN. 


399 


resolute  and  energetic  character,  equally  ready  to  defend  his 
home  against  the  incursions  of  the  savages,  and  his  rights  as  a 
citizen  against  legislative  encroachments.  On  one  occasion, 
he  and  his  neighbors  went  down  to  within  thirty  miles  of 
Charleston,  armed,  to  assert  a  right  of  suffrage  which  was 
then  disputed  ;  and  he  always  steadily  opposed  the  Federal 
Constitution,  because  it  allowed  other  people  than  those  of 
South  Carolina  to  tax  the  people  of  South  Carolina.  "  We 
have  heard  his  son  say/'  writes  a  friend  of  the  latter,  "  that 
among  his  earliest  recollections  was  one  of  a  conversation  when 
he  was  nine  years  of  age,  in  which  his  father  maintained  that 
government  to  be  best,  which  allowed  the  largest  amount  of 
individual  liberty  compatible  with  social  order  and  tranquillity, 
and  insisted  that  the  improvements  in  political  science  would 
be  found  to  consist  in  throwing  off  many  of  the  restraints  then 
imposed  by  law,  and  deemed  necessary  to  an  organized  society. 
It  may  well  be  supposed  that  his  son  John  was  an  attentive 
and  eager  auditor,  and  such  lessons  as  these  must  doubtless 
have  served  to  encourage  that  free  spirit  of  inquiry,  and  that 
intrepid  zeal  for  truth,  for  which  he  has  been  since  so  distin- 
guished. The  mode  of  thinking  which  was  thus  encouraged 
may,  perhaps,  have  compensated  in  some  degree  the  want  of 
those  early  advantages  which  are  generally  deemed  indispen- 
sable to  great  intellectual  progress.  Of  these  he  had  compara- 
tively few.  But  this  was  compensated  by  those  natural  gifts 
which  give  great  minds  the  mastery  over  difficulties  which  the 
timid  regard  as  insuperable.  Indeed,  we  have  here  another 
of  those  rare  instances  in  which  the  hardiness  of  natural  gen- 
ius is  seen  to  defy  all  obstacles,  and  developes  its  flower  and 
matures  its  fruit  under  circumstances  apparently  the  most  un- 
propitious. 


400  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

"  The  region  of  the  country  in  which  his  family  resided  was 
then  newly  settled,  and  in  a  rude  frontier  State.  There  was 
not  an  academy  in  all  the  upper  part  of  the  State,  and  none 
within  fifty  miles,  except  one  at  about  that  distance  in  Colum- 
bia county,  Georgia,  which  was  kept  by  his  brother-in-law, 
Mr.  Waddell,  a  Presbyterian  clergyman.  There  were  but  a 
few  scattered  schools  in  the  whole  of  that  region,  and  these 
were  such  as  are  usually  found  on  the  frontier,  in  which  read- 
ing, writing  and  arithmetic  were  imperfectly  taught.  At  the 
age  of  thirteen  he  was  placed  under  the  charge  of  his  brother- 
in-law  to  receive  his  education.  Shortly  after,  his  father  died  ; 
this  was  followed  by  the  death  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Waddell, 
within  a  few  weeks,  and  the  academy  was  then  discontinued, 
which  suspended  his  education  before  it  had  fairly  commenced. 
His  brother-in-law,  with  whom  he  was  still  left,  was  absent 
the  greater  part  of  the  time,  attending  to  his  clerical  duties, 
and  his  pupil  thus  found  himself  on  a  secluded  plantation, 
without  any  white  companion  during  the  greater  portion  of  the 
time.  A  situation  apparently  so  unfavorable  to  improvement 
turned  out,  in  his  case,  to  be  the  reverse.  Fortunately  for 
him,  there  was  a  small  circulating  library  in  the  house,  of 
which  his  brother-in-law  was  librarian,  and,  in  the  absence  of 
all  company  and  amusements,  that  attracted  his  attention. 
His  taste,  although  undirected,  led  him  to  history,  to  the  ne- 
glect of  novels  and  other  lighter  reading  ;  and  so  deeply  was  he 
interested,  that  in  a  short  time  he  read  the  whole  of  the  small 
stock  of  historical  works,  contained  in  the  library,  consisting 
of  Rollin's  Ancient  History,  Robertson's  Charles  V.,  his  South 
America,  and  Voltaire's  Charles  XII.  After  dispatching 
these,  he  turned  with  like  eagerness  to  Cook's  Voyages  (the 
large  edition),  a  small  volume  of  essays  by  Brown,  and  Locke 


CALHOUN. 


401 


on  the  Understanding,  which  he  read  as  far  as  the  chapter  on 
Infinity.  All  this  was  the  work  of  but  fourteen  weeks.  80 
intense  was  his  application  that  his  eyes  became  seriously  af- 
fected, his  countenance  pallid,  and  his  frame  emaciated.  His 
mother,  alarmed  at  the  intelligence  of  his  health,  sent  for  him 
home,  where  exercise  and  amusement  soon  restored  his  strength, 
and  he  acquired  a  fondness  for  hunting,  fishing,  and  other 
country  sports.  Four  years  passed  away  in  these  pursuits, 
and  in  attention  to  the  business  of  the  farm  while  his  elder 
brothers  were  absent,  to  the  entire  neglect  of  his  education. 
But  the  time  was  not  lost.  Exercise  and  rural  sports  invigo- 
rated his  frame,  while  his  labors  on  the  farm  gave  him  a  taste 
for  agriculture,  which  he  always  retained,  and  in  the  pursuit 
of  which  he  finds  delightful  occupation  for  his  intervals  of  lei- 
sure from  public  duties." 

It  is  not  our  purpose,  however,  to  enter  into  any  detail  of 
the  life  of  Mr  Calhoun.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  he  was  educat- 
ed, under  Dr.  Dwight,  at  Yale  College,  that  he  studied  law  at 
Licthfield  in  Connecticut,  that  he  was  for  two  sessions  a  member 
of  the  Legislature,  that  from  1811  to  1817  during  the  war 
with  Great  Britain,  and  the  most  trying  times  that  followed  it, 
he  was  a  member  of  the  lower  House  of  Congress.  That  he 
was  then  appointed  Secretary  of  War,  under  Madison,  when  he 
gave  a  new,  thorough,  and  complete  organization  to  his  de- 
partment. That  he  was  chosen  Vice-President  in  1825,  and 
subsequently  served  his  country  as  Senator  of  the  United 
States,  and  Secretary  of  State,  until  the  year  1850,  when  he 
died.  During  the  whole  of  this  long  period  his  exertions  were 
constant,  and  he  took  a  leading  part  in  all  the  movements  of 
parties.    Acting  for  the  most  of  the  time  with  the  Democra- 

26 


402  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

tic  party,  he  was  still  never  the  slave  of  party,  never  guilty  of 
the  low  arts  or  petty  cunning  of  the  mere  politician,  always 
fearless  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties,  and  though  ambitious, 
ever  sacrificing  his  ambition  to  his  clearly  discerned  and  open- 
ly expressed  principles.  Mr.  Webster,  who,  during  nearly  the 
whole  of  his  legislative  career,  and  on  nearly  all  questions  of 
public  concern,  had  been  an  active  opponent,  in  an  obituary 
address  to  the  Senate,  bore  this  testimony  to  his  genius  and  his 
greatness. 

"  Differing  widely  on  many  great  questions  respecting  our 
institutions  and  the  government  of  the  country,  those  differ- 
ences never  interrupted  our  personal  and  social  intercourse.  I 
have  been  present  at  most  of  the  distinguished  instances  of  the 
exhibition  of  his  talents  in  debate.  I  have  always  heard  him 
with  pleasure,  often  with  much  instruction,  not  unfrequently 
with  the  highest  degree  of  admiration. 

"  Mr.  Calhoun  was  calculated  to  be  a  leader  in  whatsoever 
association  of  political  friends  he  was  thrown.  He  was  a  man 
of  undoubted  genius  and  of  commanding  talents.  All  the 
country  and  all  the  world  admit  that.  His  mind  was  both 
perceptive  and  vigorous.    It  was  clear,  quick,  and  strong. 

"  Sir,  the  eloquence  of  Mr.  Calhoun,  or  the  manner  in  which 
he  exhibited  his  sentiments  in  public  bodies,  was  part  of  his 
intellectual  character.  It  grew  out  of  the  qualities  of  his 
mind.  It  was  plain,  strong,  terse,  condensed,  concise  ;  some- 
times impassioned,  still  always  severe.  Kejecting  ornament,  not 
often  seeking  far  for  illustration,  his  power  consisted  in  the 
plainness  of  his  propositions,  in  the  closeness  of  his  logic,  and 
in  the  earnestness  and  energy  of  his  manner.  These  are  the 
qualities,  as  I  think,  which  have  enabled  him  through  such  a 


CALHOUN. 


403 


long  course  of  years  to  speak  often,  and  yet  command  attention. 
His  demeanor  as  a  Senator  is  known  to  us  all,  is  appreciated, 
venerated,  by  us  all.  No  man  was  more  respectful  to  others  ; 
no  man  carried  himself  with  greater  decorum,  no  man  with 
superior  dignity.  I  think  there  is  not  one  of  us,  when  he 
last  addressed  us  from  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  his  form  still 
erect,  with  a  voice  by  no  means  indicating  such  a  degree  of 
physical  weakness  as  did  in  fact  possess  him,  with  clear  tones, 
and  an  impressive,  and,  I  may  say,  an  imposing  manner,  who 
did  not  feel  that  he  might  imagine  that  we  saw  before  us  a 
Senator  of  Home,  while  Kome  survived. 

"  Sir,  I  have  not,  in  public,  nor  in  private  life,  known  a 
more  assiduous  person  in  the  discharge  of  his  appropriate  du- 
ties. I  have  known  no  man  who  wasted  less  of  life  in  what  is 
called  recreation,  or  employed  less  of  it  in  any  pursuits  not  con- 
nected with  the  immediate  discharge  of  his  duty.  He  seemed 
to  have  no  recreation  but  the  pleasure  of  conversation  with 
his  friends.  Out  of  the  chambers  of  Congress,  he  was  either 
devoting  himself  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  pertaining  to  the 
immediate  subject  of  the  duty  before  him,  or  else  he  was  indulg- 
ing in  those  social  interviews  in  which  he  so  much  delighted. 

"  My  honorable  friend  from  Kentucky*  has  spoken  in  just 
terms  of  his  colloquial  talents.  They  certainly  were  singular 
and  eminent.  There  was  a  charm  in  his  conversation  not 
often  equalled.  He  delighted  especially  in'  conversation  and 
intercourse  with  young  men.  I  suppose  that  there  has  been 
no  man  among  us  who  had  more  winning  manners,  in  such  an 
intercourse  and  such  conversation,  with  men  comparatively 


*  Mr.  Clay. 


404         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

young,  than  Mr.  Calhoun.  I  believe  one  great  power  of  his 
character,  in  general,  was  his  conversational  talent.  I  believe 
it  is  that,  as  well  as  a  consciousness  of  his  high  integrity,  and 
the  greatest  reverence  for  his  talents  and  ability,  that  has 
made  him  so  endeared  an  object  to  the  people  of  the  State  to 
which  he  belonged. 

"  Mr.  President,  he  had  the  basis,  the  indispensable  basis 
of  all  high  charcter  ;  and  that  was,  unspotted  integrity  and 
unimpeached  honor.  If  he  had  aspirations,  they  were  high, 
and  honorable,  and  noble.  There  was  nothing  grovelling,  or 
low,  or  meanly  selfish,  that  came  near  the  head  or  the  heart 
of  Mr.  Calhoun.  Firm  in  his  purpose,  perfectly  patriotic  and 
honest,  as  I  am  sure  he  was,  in  the  principles  that  he  espous 
ed,  and  in  the  measures  which  he  defended,  aside  from  that 
large  regard  for  the  species  of  distinction  that  conducted  him 
to  eminent  stations  for  the  benefit  of  the  republic,  I  do  not 
believe  he  had  a  selfish  motive  or  selfish  feeling.  However  he 
may  have  differed  from  others  of  us  in  his  political  opinions  or 
his  political  principles,  those  principles  and  those  opinions  will 
now  descend  to  posterity  under  the  sanction  of  a  great  name. 
He  has  lived  long  enough,  he  has  done  enough,  and  he  has 
done  it  so  well,  so  successfully,  so  honorably,  as  to  connect 
himself  for  all  time  with  the  records  of  his  country.  He  is 
now  an  historical  character.  Those  of  us  who  have  known 
him  here,  will  find  that  he  has  left  upon  our  minds  and  our 
hearts  a  strong  and  lasting  impression  of  his  person,  his  char- 
acter, and  his  public  performances,  which,  while  we  live,  will 
never  be  obliterated.  We  shall  hereafter,  I  am  sure,  indulge 
in  it  as  a  grateful  recollection,  that  we  have  lived  in  his  age, 
that  we  have  been  his  contemporaries,  that  we  have  seen  him, 


CALHOUN. 


405 


and  heard  him,  and  known  him.  We  shall  delight  to  speak 
of  him  to  those  who  are  rising  up  to  fill  our  places.  And, 
when  the  time  shall  come  that  we  ourselves  must  go,  one  after 
another,  to  our  graves,  we  shall  carry  with  us  a  deep  sense  of 
his  genius  and  character,  his  honor  and  integrity,  his  amiable 
deportment  in  private  life,  and  the  purity  of  his  exalted  pa- 
triotism."- 

The  event  in  Mr.  Calhoun's  political  life  which  will  give 
him  the  greatest  distinction  in  our  history,  was  the  bold  and 
perilous  course  he  took  on  the  subject  of  nullification.  It 
brought  him  and  his  native  State  directly  in  conflict  with  the 
powers  of  the  Federal  government,  and  but  for  the  comprom- 
ise of  the  Tariff  question,  out  of  which  the  controversy  grew, 
would  have  ended  in  civil  war.  We  shall  not  undertake  to 
narrate  the  origin  or  the  purpose  of  this  most  fearful  crisis, 
referring  our  readers  to  the  regular  memoirs  of  Mr.  Calhoun 
for  the  details,  but  we  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  our  high 
admiration  of  the  gallant  bearing  of  the  great  South  Caroli- 
nian during  the  whole  of  the  protracted  and  embarrassing 
dispute.  The  energy  with  which  he  pursued  his  ends,  the 
originality  with  which  he  defended  them,  the  boldness  of  his 
position,  the  devotion  to  his  friends,  the  formidable  objects 
that  he  had  to  encounter,  the  calm,  earnest  self-reliance  with 
which  he  encountered  them,  and,  in  the  end,  the  grace- 
ful concessions  on  both  sides,  by  which  the  difficulties  of 
the  juncture  were  avoided,  are  brilliant  illustrations  both  of 
the  lofty  energies  of  his  spirit,  and  of  the  happy,  peaceful 
working  of  our  national  institutions.  In  any  other  country, 
and  under  any  other  government,  if  it  had  been  possible  for 

such  a  conflict  to  arise,  it  could  only  have  terminated  in  blood- 
21 


406 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


shed  or  war.  Either  the  reigning  authority  would  have  been 
overturned,  or  the  chief  agent  in  the  insurrection  would  have 
been  executed  as  a  traitor.  Under  the  benign  and  concilia- 
tory genius  of  our  constitution,  by  that  pacific  legislation,  which 
knows  how  to  temper  the  rigid  and  inflexible  exercise  of  law 
by  the  spirit  of  concession,  the  struggle  ended  in  compromise. 

It  was  in  his  domestic  life  that  Mr.  Calhoun,  won  the 
warmest  homage  of  the  heart.  Miss  Bates,  who  was  for  many 
years  a  governess  in  his  family,  and  who  enjoyed  the  finest  op- 
portunities for  observing  him,  has  given  us  the  following  record 
of  his  private  virtues  and  peculiarities. 

"  In  Mr.  Calhoun  were  united  the  simple  habits  of  the 
Spartan  lawgiver,  the  inflexible  principles  of  the  Roman  sena- 
tor, the  courteous  bearing  and  indulgent  kindness  of  the  Amer- 
ican host,  husband,  and  father.  This  was  indeed  a  rare  union. 
Life  with  him  was  solemn  and  earnest,  and  yet  all  about  him 
was  cheerful.  I  never  heard  him  utter  a  jest  ;  there  was  an 
unvarying  dignity  and  gravity  in  his  manner ;  and  yet  the 
playful  child  regarded  him  fearlessly  and  lovingly.  Few  men 
indulge  their  families  in  as  free,  confidential,  and  familiar  in- 
tercourse as  did  this  great  statesman.  Indeed,  to  those  who 
had  an  opportunity  of  observing  him  in  his  own  house,  it  was 
evident  that  his  cheerful  and  happy  home  had  attractions  for 
him  superior  to  those  which  any  other  place  could  offer.  Here 
was  a  retreat  from  the  cares,  the  observation,  and  the  hom- 
age of  the  world.  In  few  homes  could  the  transient  visitor 
feel  more  at  ease  than  did  the  guest  at  Fort  Hill.  Those 
who  knew  Mr.  Calhoun  only  by  his  senatorial  speeches,  may 
suppose  that  his  heart  and  mind  were  all  engrossed  in  the  na- 
tion's councils  ;  but  there  were  moments  when  his  courtesy, 


CALHOUN.  407 

his  minute  kindnesses,  made  you  forget  the  statesman.  The 
choicest  fruits  were  selected  for  his  guest  ;  and  I  remember 
seeing  him  at  his  daughter's  wedding  take  the  ornaments  from 
a  cake  and  send  them  to  a  little  child.  Many  such  graceful 
attentions,  offered  in  an  unostentatious  manner  to  all  about 
him,  illustrated  the  kindness  and  noble  simplicity  of  his  na- 
ture. His  family  could  not  but  exult  in  his  intellectual  great- 
ness, his  rare  endowments,  and  his  lofty  career,  yet  they  seem- 
ed to  lose  sight  of  all  these  in  their  love  for  him.  I  had  once 
the  pleasure  of  travelling  with  his  eldest  son,  who  related  to 
me  many  interesting  facts  and  traits  of  his  life.  He  said  he 
had  never  heard  him  speak  impatiently  to  any  member  of  his 
family.  He  mentioned,  that  as  he  was  leaving  that  morning 
for  his  home  in  Alabama,  a  younger  brother  said,  •  Come  soon 
again,  and  see  us,  brother  A — ,  for  do  you  not  see  that  father 
is  growing  old  ?  and  is  not  father  the  dearest,  best  old  man  in 
the  world ! ' 

"  Like  Cincinnatus,  he  enjoyed  rural  life  and  occupation. 
It  was  his  habit,  when  at  home,  to  go  over  his  grounds  every 
day.  I  remember  his  returning  one  morning  from  a  walk 
about  his  plantation,  delighted  with  the  fine  specimens  of  corn 
and  rice  which  he  brought  in  for  us  to  admire.  That  morn- 
ing— the  trifling  incident  shows  his  consideration  and  kind- 
ness of  feeling,  as  well  as  his  tact  and  power  of  adaptation — 
seeing  an  article  of  needlework  in  the  hands  of  sister  A — , 
who  was  then  a  stranger  there,  he  examined  it,  spoke  of  the 
beauty  of  the  coloring,  the  variety  of  the  shade,  and  by  thus 
showing  an  interest  in  her,  at  once  made  her  at  ease  in  his 
presence. 

"His  eldest  daughter  always  accompanied  him  to  Washing- 


408         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

4 

ton,  and  in  the  absence  of  his  wife,  who  was  often  detained 
by  family  cares  at  Fort  Hill,  this  daughter  was  his  solace  amid 
arduous  duties,  and  his  confidant  in  perplexing  cases.  Like 
the  gifted  De  Stael,  she  loved  her  father  with  enthusiastic  de- 
votion. Richly  endowed  by  nature,  improved  by  constant 
companionship  with  the  great  man,  her  mind  was  in  harmony 
with  his,  and  he  took  pleasure  in  counselling  with  her.  She 
said,  c  Of  course,  I  do  not  understand  as  he  does,  for  I  am 
comparatively  a  stranger  to  the  world,  yet  he  likes  my  unso- 
phisticated opinion,  and  I  frankly  tell  him  my  views  on  any 
subject  about  which  he  inquires  of  me/ 

"  Between  himself  and  his  younger  daughter  there  was 
a  peculiar  and  most  tender  union.  As  by  the  state  of  her 
health  she  was  tdeprived  of  many  enjoyments,  her  indulgent 
parents  endeavored  to  compensate  for  every  loss  by  their  affec- 
tion and  devotion.  As  reading  was  her  favorite  occupation, 
she  was  allowed  to  go  to  the  letter-bag  when  it  came  from 
the  office,  and  select  the  papers  she  preferred.  On  one  occa- 
sion, she  had  taken  two  papers,  containing  news  of  importance 
which  her  father  was  anxious  to  see,  but  he  would  allow  no 
one  to  disturb  her  until  she  had  finished  their  perusal. 

"  In  his  social  as  well  as  in  his  domestic  relations  he  was  ir- 
reproachable. No  shadow  rested  on  his  pure  fame,  no  blot  on 
his  escutcheon.  In  his  business  transactions  he  was  punctual 
and  scrupulously  exact.  He  was  honorable  as  well  as  honest. 
Young  men  who  were  reared  in  his  vicinity,  with  their  eyes 
ever  on  him,  say  that  in  all  respects,  in  small  as  well  as  in 
great  things,  his  conduct  was  so  exemplary  that  he  might  well 
be  esteemed  a  model. 

"  His  profound  love  for  his  own  family,  his  cordial  interest 


CALHOUN. 


409 


in  his  friends,  his  kindness  and  justice  in  every  transaction, 
were  not  small  virtues  in  such  a  personage. 

"  He  was  anti-Byronic.  I  never  heard  him  ridicule  or  sa- 
tirize a  human  being.  Indeed  he  might  have  been  thought 
deficient  in  a  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  had  he  not  by  the  unvary- 
ing propriety  of  his  own  conduct  proved  his  exquisite  percep- 
tion of  its  opposites.  When  he  differed  in  opinion  from  those 
with  whom  he  conversed,  he  seemed  to  endeavor  by  a  respect- 
ful manner,  to  compensate  for  the  disagreement.  He  em- 
ployed reason,  rather  than  contradiction  ;  and  so  earnestly 
would  he  urge  an  opinion  and  so  fully  present  an  argument, 
that  his  opponent  could  not  avoid  feeling  complimented  rather 
than  mortified.  He  paid  a  tribute  to  the  understandings  of 
others  by  the  force  of  his  own  reasoning,  and  by  his  readiness 
to  admit  every  argument  which  he  could,  although  advanced 
in  opposition  to  one  he  himself  had  just  expressed. 

"  On  one  occasion  I  declined  taking  a  glass  of  wine  at  his 
table.  He  kindly  said,  '  I  think  you  carry  that  a  little  too 
far.  It  is  well  to  give  up  every  thing  intoxicating,  but  not 
these  light  wines. '  I  replied,  that  wine  was  renounced  by 
many  for  the  sake  of  consistency,  and  for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  could  not  afford  wine.  He  acknowledged  the  correctness 
of  the  principle,  adding,  'I  do  not  know  how  temperance  so- 
cieties can  take  any  other  ground/  and  then  defined  his  views 
of  temperance,  entered  on  a  course  of  interesting  arguments, 
and  stated  facts  and  statistics.  Of  course,  were  all  men  like 
Mr.  Calhoun  temperance  societies  would  be  superfluous.  Per- 
haps he  could  not  be  aware  of  the  temptations  that  assail 
many  men — he  was  so  purely  intellectual,  so  free  from  self- 
indulgonce.    Materiality  with  him  was  held  subject  to  his 


410         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

higher  nature.  He  did  not  even  indulge  himself  in  a  cigar. 
Few  spent  as  little  time,  and  exhausted  as  little  energy  in 
mere  amusements.  Domestic  and  social  enjoyments  were  his 
pleasures — kind  and  benevolent  acts  were  his  recreations. 

"  He  always  seemed  willing  to  converse  on  any  subject 
which  was  interesting  to  those  about  him.  Returning  one 
day  from  Fort  Hill,  I  remarked  to  a  friend,  c  I  have  never 
been  more  convinced  of  Mr.  Calhoun's  genius  than  to-day, 
while  he  talked  to  us  of  a  flower/  His  versatile  conversation 
evinced  his  universal  knowledge,  his  quick  perception,  and 
his  faculty  of  adaptation.  A  shower  one  day  compelled  him  to 
take  shelter  in  the  shed  of  a  blacksmith,  who  was  charmed  by 
his  familiar  conversation,  and  the  knowledge  he  exhibited  of 
the  mechanic  arts.  A  naval  officer  was  once  asked,  after  a 
visit  to  Fort  Hill,  how  he  liked  Mr.  Calhoun.  1  Not  at  all/ 
said  he — '  I  never  like  a  man  who  knows  more  about  my  pro- 
fession than  I  do  myself/  A  clergyman  wished  to  converse 
with  him  on  subjects  of  a  religious  nature,  and  after  the  in- 
terview remarked,  that  he  was  astonished  to  find  him  better 
informed  than  himself  on  those  very  points  wherein  he  had  ex- 
pected to  give  him  information.  I  had  understood  that  Mr. 
Calhoun  avoided  an  expression  of  opinion  with  regard  to  dif- 
ferent sects  and  creeds,  or  what  is  called  religious  controversy  ; 
and  once,  when  urged  to  give  his  views  in  relation  to  a  disput- 
ed point,  he  replied,  £  That  is  a  subject  to  which  I  have  never 
given  my  attention/ 

"  Mr.  Calhoun  was  unostentatious,  and  ever  averse  to  dis- 
play. He  did  not  appear  to  talk  for  the  sake  of  exhibition, 
but  from  the  overflowing  of  his  earnest  nature.  Whether  in 
the  Senate  or  in  conversation  with  a  single  listener,  his  lan- 


CALHOUN. 


411 


guage  was  choice,  his  style  fervid,  his  manner  impressive. 
Never  can  I  forget  his  gentle  earnestness  when  endeavorin  j,  to 
express  his  views  on  some  controverted  subject,  and  observing 
that  my  mind  could  hardly  keep  pace  with  his  rapid  reasoning, 
he  would  occasionally  pause  and  say,  in  his  kind  manner,  '  Do 
you  see  ? ' 

"  He  did  not  seek  to  know  the  opinion  of  others  with  regard 
to  himself.  Anonymous  letters  he  never  read,  and  his  daughters 
and  nieces  often  snatched  from  the  flames  letters  of  adulation 
as  well  as  censure,  which  he  had  not  read.  Although  he  re- 
spected the  opinions  of  his  fellow-men,  he  did  not  seek  office 
or  worldly  honor.  A.  few  years  since,  one  to  whom  he  ever 
spoke  freely,  remarked  to  him  that  some  believed  he  was  mak- 
ine  efforts  to  obtain  the  presidency.  At  that  moment  he  had 
taken  off  his  glasses,  and  was  wiping  them,  and  thus  he  re- 
plied :  '  M  ,  I  think  when  a  man  is  too  old  to  see  clearly 

through  his  glasses,  he  is  too  old  to  think  of  the  presidency.' 
And  recently  he  said  to  her,  '  They  may  impute  what  motives 
they  please  to  me,  but  I  do  not  seek  office/  So  much  did  he 
respect  his  country,  that  he  might  have  been  gratified  by  the 
free  gift  of  the  people  ;  so  much  did  he  love  his  country,  that 
he  might  have  rejoiced  at  an  opportunity  to  serve  it ;  but  would 
he  have  swerved  one  iota  from  his  convictions  to  secure  a  king- 
dom ?    "Who,  that  knew  him,  believes  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Calhoun  was  an  author  as  well  as  a  statesman,  and  in 
the  dissertations  on  the  constitution  and  on  government  pub- 
lished since  his  death,  has  bequeathed  us  the  ripened  fruits  of 
his  life-long  study.  They  are  works  of  the  rarest  penetration 
and  sagacity,  of  subtle  logic,  of  earnest  conviction,  of  profound 
observation  of  men  and  things,  and  of  unquestionable  genius. 


412  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

The  particular  conclusions  at  which  the  writer  arrives,  as  to 
the  nature  and  limits  of  government,  and  as  to  the  amend- 
ments that  ought  to  be  made  in  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States,  will  not  be  adopted  by  large  classes  of  readers  ;  but 
none  of  them  will  arise  from  a  perusal  of  his  pages,  without 
an  additional  admiration  of  the  keenness  and  force  of  his  in- 
tellect, the  ardor  of  his  patriotism,  and  the  purity  of  his 
character. 


Clinton. 


CLINTON. 


THE  Academy  of  Sciences  at  Dijon  recently  asked  of  their 
municipality,  that  all  houses  in  the  commune  winch  de- 
served to  be  historical,  might  be  marked  by  commemorative 
inscriptions.  The  Council,  we  are  told,  readily  acceded  to  the 
request,  and  among  the  birth-places  and  residences  thus  desig- 
nated are  those  of  Buffon,  Crebillon,  Guyton  De  Morveau,  and 
the  Marshal  Tavennes. 

We  in  this  country,  whether  fortunately  or  unfortunately, 
live  in  too  progressive  an  age  to  allow  us  to  ask  for  similar 
remembrances.    Unless  a  statesman  happens  to  be  reared  in 


416         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

a  rural  district,  the  house  of  his  birth  seldom  survives  his 
youth,  possibly  his  manhood.  New  structures  arise,  and  the 
succeeding  generation  know  little  or  nothing  of  what  pre- 
ceded. 

In  the  instance  of  DeWitt  Clinton,  the  difficulty  is  in- 
creased by  the  diversity  of  statements  that  are  made  relative 
to  his  birth-place.  He  was  the  son  of  James  Clinton,  a  gallant 
soldier  in  both  of  the  now  classic  wars  of  this  country.  Com- 
missioned as  an  ensign  in  the  war  of  1756,  Mr.  Clinton  served 
during  most  of  its  campaigns.  The  Continental  Congress,  in 
1775,  appointed  him  colonel  of  one  of  the  New- York  regi- 
ments ;  and  after  particularly  distinguishing  himself  at  Fort 
Montgomery  and  Yorktown,  he  retired  from  the  army  of  the 
Revolution  with  the  rank  of  major-general. 

It  was  after  the  close  of  the  French  War  that  Mr.  Clinton 
was  married  to  Mary  DeWitt.  She  is  represented  as  having 
been  beautiful  in  her  youth — an  only  sister,  with  nine  brothers. 
To  them  four  sons  were  born,  of  whom  DeWitt  was  the  second. 
The  date  of  his  birth  is  well  settled — being  the  year  1769  ; — 
not  so  the  place.  Many  of  his  biographers  unite  in  stating  that 
this  was  Little  Britain,  in  Orange  County,  where  his  father 
resided.  Some  assert  that  he  was  born  at  New  Windsor,  in 
the  same  county,  in  a  house  still  standing,  and  which  can  be 
seen  from  the  river  ;  while  others  relate  the  tradition  that 
his  parents  were  on  a  visit  to  the  fort  at  Minisink,  then  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  DeWitt,  a  brother  of  Mrs.  Clinton  ; 
that  a  severe  and  long-continued  snow-storm  occurred,  and 
that  the  mother  was  there  confined. 

On  his  education  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  dwell,  farther 
than  to  trace  its  influence  on  his  subsequent  career.  His 


CLINTON. 


417 


parents  bestowed  on  him  that  inestimable  gift — the  best  edu- 
cation that  the  State  could  afford — first  at  Kingston  Academy, 
and  subsequently  at  Columbia  College.  The  professors'  chairs 
were  filled  by  eminent  men,  who  appear  to  have  appreciated 
the  talents  of  their  pupil.  He  was  the  first  graduate  after  the 
Revolution. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  commenced  the  study  of  the 
law  with  the  elder  Samuel  Jones,  whose  eminence  as  an  advo- 
cate, and  honesty  as  a  high  state  officer,  still  linger  amongst 
our  earliest  reminiscences. 

Thus  prepared,  as  well  by  preliminary  instruction  as  by 
earnest  self-improvement,  he  was  about  entering  on  the  pro- 
fession of  the  law,  with  elders  and  contemporaries  equal  to  any 
bar  in  the  Union,  when  his  destiny  was  at  once  and  perman- 
ently changed.  He  was  the  nephew  of  George  Clinton,  the 
governor  of  the  young  State  of  New- York  ;  distinguished  by 
his  civil  and  military  talents  ;  admirably  qualified  to  guide  the 
rising  republic  through  its  forming  stages,  although  possibly 
too  tenacious  of  his  peculiar  opinions,  and,  unfortunately,  too 
long  opposed  to  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution. 

The  parties  that  from  time  to  time  controlled  the  destinies 
of  the  country  were  now  in  active  collision.  In  the  State  of 
New- York,  Jay  and  Hamilton  were  the  leaders  and  guides  of 
the  Federalists,  and  Governor  Clinton  needed  all  the  intellec- 
tual aid  that  could  be  brought  to  bear  on  the  contest.  He 
selected  his  nephew  as  his  private  secretary,  and  the  sagacity, 
at  least,  of  the  choice  has  never  been  disputed.  Several  papers 
on  subjects  of  public  and  permanent  interest,  known  to  have 
emanated  from  the  pen  of  DeWitt  Clinton,  are  still  pre- 
served. 


418  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

We  are  told  that  he  remained  in  this  station  until  1795 — 
the  close  of  the  long  administration  (continued  by  re-elections) 
of  his  uncle. 

In  1797,  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Assembly  from 
the  city  of  New- York,  and  the  next  year,  of  the  Senate.  The 
tenure  of  the  first  of  these  was  annual,  and  of  the  last  for  four 
years.  From  the  above  date  to  the  hour  of  his  death,  with 
short  intervals,  he  continued  to  be  chosen  in  succession  to  the 
Senate,  and  as  lieutenant-governor  and  governor.  He  was 
for  the  space  of  two  years  a  member  of  the  United  States 
Senate.  From  1803  to  1807,  and  from  1808  to  1815, 
he  served  as  mayor  of  the  city  of  New- York.  This  is  a  brief 
outline  of  the  situations  he  held,  and  it  is  only  necessary  to  fill 
up  the  sketch  with  notices  of  what  he  proposed  and  accom- 
plished, to  complete  the  picture. 

His  "  homes,"  with  the  brief  exception  of  two  winters  at 
Washington,  were,  of  course,  mainly  in  New- York  and 
Albany. 

In  the  former,  his  town  residence  was  at  the  lower  end  of 
Broadway — then  the  fashionable  part  of  the  city,  and  where 
wealthy  bankers,  and  merchants,  and  distinguished  professional 
men  loved  to  fix  their  dwellings.  At  a  short  distance  from 
the  Bowling-green  and  the  Battery,  the  breezes  from  the  ocean 
occasionally  found  their  way  and  shed  their  influences.  Com- 
merce has  commanded  the  removal  of  most  of  these  private 
residences,  and  she  has  been  rigidly  obeyed.  The  merchandise 
of  the  Old  and  of  the  New  World  needs  still  increasing  de- 
positories. 

While  remaining  in  New- York,  he  owned  a  country-seat 
at  Maspeth,  on  Long  Island,  to  which  he  frequently  resorted, 


CLINTON. 


419 


and  where  he  indulged  in  his  favorite  pursuits  of  angling  and 
hunting.  He  was  greatly  attached  to  these,  until  in  after  life 
an  unfortunate  accident  rendered  active  exercise  too  labo- 
rious. 

Of  Albany,  the  place  in  which  a  large  portion  of  his  mature 
life  was  spent,  we  feel  some  constraint  in  giving,  what  we  con- 
sider, a  just  account.  By  many,  even  intelligent  travellers,  it 
is  only  known  as  a  place  of  transfer  from  steamboats  and 
railroads — as  excessively  hot  in  summer,  and  as  the  capital  of 
the  State,  where  the  Legislature  holds  its  sessions  during  the 
winter. 

But  its  antiquities — if  antiquities  are  to  be  spoken  of  in 
this  country — are  of  some  interest.  Here  an  American  Con- 
gress once  assembled,  of  which  Franklin  was  a  member. 
Whenever  England  and  France  contended  for  mastery  on  this 
continent,  many  of  the  officers  and  troops  of  the  former  halted 
here  for  a  while,  or  passed  on  for  the  finally  accomplished  object 
of  the  conquest  of  Canada.  Here  for  a  time  were  Howe  and 
Abercrombie,  Amherst  and  Sir  William  Johnson  ;  while,  to  the 
French,  it  seems  to  have  been  the  limit,  which,  though  they 
burnt  Schenectady  and  ravaged  the  western  part  of  the  State, 
they  seemed  scarcely  able  to  reach. 

Passing  over  intermediate  occurrences,  during  the  war  of 
1812  there  was  here  concentrated  a  large  portion  of  the  mili- 
tary force  of  the  United  States,  which  went  forth  in  all  the 
pomp  and  circumstance  of  war  to  its  mingled  career  of  defeat 
and  success. 

Two  dwellings  still  remain  in  Albany  dear  to  Revolutionary 
memory — the  residences  of  General  Philip  Schuyler  and  Gen- 
eral Abraham  Ten  Broeck.    The  latter  was  distinguished  as 


420         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

a  brave  and  capable  militia  officer.  The  services  and  talents 
of  the  former  are  not  as  yet  sufficiently  appreciated.  The 
wise  man — the  trusted  of  Washington — the  able  statesman — 
who  early  pointed  out  the  way  to  internal  improvement  in  the 
State  of  New- York,  only  needs  an  impartial  and  well-instructed 
biographer  to  be  duly  known. 

It  is  a  matter  of  satisfaction  that  both  of  these  residences — 
crowning  heights  north  and  south  of  the  city — are  in  excellent 
preservation,  owned  by  wealthy  persons,  and  destined,  we  may 
hope,  to  a  long  existence. 

Governor  Clinton  occupied  during  his  residence  in  Albany 
(part  of  the  time  he  was  out  of  office)  two  different  houses, 
which  possess  an  interest  only  inferior  to  those  we  have  just 
mentioned.  One  of  them,  formerly  almost  a  country  resi- 
dence,— built  by  Peter  W.  Yates,  an  eminent  counsellor  at  law, 
and  now  owned  by  another  of  the  same  name, — was,  for  a 
series  of  years,  the  dwelling-place  of  governors  of  the  State  of 
New- York.  Here  Tompkins  dispensed  his  hospitality,  while  he 
wielded,  in  a  manner  but  partially  understood,  the  destinies  of 
the  nation  during  the  war  of  1812  ;  and  from  this  beautiful 
seat  he  departed,  in  an  evil  hour  to  himself,  to  be  Vice-Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States.  Clinton  succeeded.  In  this 
house  he  met  with  a  severe  accident, — a  fracture  of  the  knee- 
pan  from  a  fall ;  after  a  slow  recovery  he  was  enabled  to  use 
the  limb  with  but  slight  indication  of  the  injury.  Still  it  pre- 
vented him  from  taking  exercise  on  horseback,  to  which  he  had 
been  much  accustomed,  and  it  probably  led  to  an  increased 
fulness  of  habit,  in  the  later  years  of  his  life. 

Subsequently  to  this  he  occupied  a  house  (it  was  that  in 
which  he  died)  in  Pearl-street,  built  by  Goldsboro  Banyer, 


CLINTON. 


421 


one  of  the  last  deputy  Secretaries  of  State  of  the  Colony  of 
New- York.  It  was  bequeathed  to  his  son's  widow,  a  daughter 
of  Governor  Jay,  and  on  her  removal  to  New- York,  was 
taken  as  a  governor's  residence. 

It  would  scarcely  be  proper  to  conclude  these  sketches, 
without  briefly  enumerating  the  services  of  DeWitt  Clinton 
to  his  State  and  country.  Most  of  these  were  thought  of,  de- 
veloped and  produced  ready  for  adoption,  within  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts of  his  "  home." 

As  mayor  of  New- York,  he  was  at  that  time  head  of 
the  judicial  department  of  the  city.  Subsequently  that 
officer  has  been  relieved  of  these  duties,  and  several  lo- 
cal courts  have  been  found  necessary,  to  dispose  of  the 
cases  which  the  tangled  relations  of  commerce  are  con- 
stantly bringing  forth.  Some  records  of  his  ability  both  as  a 
civil  and  a  criminal  judge  still  remain.  A  Catholic  priest  had 
been  called  upon  to  disclose  what  had  been  communicated  to 
him  at  the  confessional.  In  Ins  opinion,  Mr.  Clinton  sustained 
the  sacred  nature  of  the  secret  thus  imparted,  and  subsequent 
legislation,  doubtless  founded  on  this  case,  extended  the  exemp- 
tion not  only  to  the  clergyman,  but  also  to  the  physician.  He 
also  aided  with  great  energy  in  putting  down  and  punishing 
riots,  caused  by  excited  political  feelings.  Nor  should  we  omit  to 
say,  that  before  him  was  tried  the  peculiar  case  of  Whistelo,  in 
which  the  wit  of  Counsellor  Sampson,  and  the  peculiarities  of 
Dr.  Samuel  Latham  Mitchill  were  equally  conspicuous. 

As  a  member  of  the  Senate  of  New- York,  he  became  ex 
officio  also  a  member  of  the  highest  court  in  the  State — the 
court  for  the  trial  of  impeachments,  and  the  correction  of 
errors  in  the  inferior  courts.    Several  of  Ins  decisions  are  to  be 


422         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

found  in  the  volumes  of  New- York  State  Keports.  He  grap- 
pled with  the  subjects  of  insurance  law,  of  libel,  the  power  of 
committing  for  contempt,  the  construction  of  the  Habeas  Cor- 
pus Act,  and  the  effect  of  foreign  admiralty  decisions. 
"Some  of  these,"  says  Chancellor  Kent,  "are  models  of  judi- 
cial and  parliamentary  eloquence,  and  they  all  relate  to  im- 
portant questions,  affecting  constitutional  rights  and  personal 
liberty.  They  partake  more  of  the  character  of  a  statesman's 
discussions,  than  that  of  a  dry  technical  lawyer,  and  are 
therefore  more  interesting  to  the  general  scholar." 

As  a  legislator,  it  is  quite  sufficient  to  refer  to  the  long 
list  of  laws  drawn  up  and  supported  by  him,  as  it  is  given  in 
the  eighth  chapter  of  Professor  Renwick's  life,  to  appreciate  the 
high  class  of  subjects  to  which  he  applied  his  best  efforts. 
We  select  only  a  portion.  An  act  respecting  a  digest  of  the 
public  laws  of  the  State.  An  act  to  enlarge  the  powers  of 
and  to  endow  the  Orphan  Asylum  society, — to  amend  the  in- 
solvent laws,  to  prevent  the  inhuman  treatment  of  slaves,  for 
the  support  of  the  quarantine  establishment,  to  revise  and 
amend  the  militia  law,  to  incorporate  the  society  for  the  relief 
of  poor  widows  with  small  children,  for  promoting  medical 
science,  for  the  further  encouragement  of  free  schools,  for  se- 
curing to  mechanics  and  others,  payment  for  their  labor  and 
materials  in  the  city  of  New- York.  It  has  been  urged  that 
others  by  their  efforts,  or  their  votes,  have  been  as  useful  as 
was  Mr.  Clinton,  in  procuring  the  passage  of  these  and  similar 
laws.  Be  it  so.  It  is  not  even  attempted  to  deny  this.  It 
would  be  treason  to  the  great  interests  of  humanity  to  claim 
exclusive  honor  for  a  single  man.  But  he  knows  little  of  prac- 
tical legislation,  who  is  not  perfectly  aware  how  efficient  and 


CLINTON. 


423 


important  it  is  to  have  one  individual,  eminent  in  talents,  high 
in  power,  who  is  willing  to  initiate  useful  measures — propose 
their  adoption,  and  support  them  with  his  best  abilities. 

In  the  matter  of  the  Canals  of  New- York,  this  is  his  high 
honor ;  this  his  crowning  glory.  Even  during  life,  he  gave 
due  credit  to  all  who  suggested  or  supported  the  work  ;  but  his 
pre-eminent  merit  is,  that  he  adopted  the  canal  policy  as  his 
own  party  policy.  It  has  been  said,  in  words  which  cannot  be 
bettered,  that  "  in  the  great  work  of  internal  improvement,  he 
persevered  through  good  report  and  through  evil  report,  with 
a  steadiness  of  purpose  that  no  obstacle  could  divert ;  and 
when  all  the  elements  were  in  commotion  around  him,  and 
even  his  chosen  associates  were  appalled,  he  alone,  like  Colum- 
bus, on  the  wide  waste  of  waters,  in  his  frail  bark  with  a  dis- 
heartened and  unbelieving  crew,  remained  firm,  self-poised 
and  unshaken." 

Heaven  in  its  goodness  allowed  life  till  the  great  work  was 
completed. 

Of  Governor  Clinton's  devotion  to  science  and  to  litera- 
ture, of  his  patronage  and  support  of  societies  and  institu- 
tions, for  their  diffusion,  all  are  knowing ;  but  it  is  not  suffi- 
ciently understood,  that  these  were  amateur  pursuits,  followed 
during  hours  that  he  could  scarcely  spare  from  his  legitimate 
duties.  Whatever  of  imperfection  or  of  crudeness  may  there- 
fore be  found  in  them,  should  be  charitably  considered. 

His  domestic  habits  were  simple  and  unobtrusive.  He 
was  industrious  through  life — the  earliest  riser  in  the  house — 
frequently,  if  not  generally,  making  his  office  fire  in  the  win- 
ter, and  dispatching  most  of  his  voluminous  correspondence 
before  the  breakfast  hour. 


424 


HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


In  his  family,  he  was  every  thing  that  became  a  man — a 
kind  and  faithful  husband  ;  an  affectionate,  indeed  indulgent 
father ;  a  warm,  devoted,  and  often  self-sacrificing  friend. 
What  wonder  is  it,  that  his  memory  should  continue  to  be 
cherished  with  sincere  love  and  ever  increasing  esteem. 


4 


o  r  in 

Co 


S  T  0  R  Y 


IT  is  a  common  saying  among  lawyers,  that  in  proportion  to 
the  labor  which  their  profession  exacts,  and  the  degree  of 
distinction  which  success  confers  upon  them  during  their  life- 
time, their  fate  is  a  hard  one  in  the  struggle  for  immortality. 
They  are  accustomed  to  say  in  a  tone  of  half  complaint,  that  the 
zeal  and  ability  which  would  earn  for  them  a  cheap  celebrity  in 
some  other  pursuit,  is  expended  upon  the  establishing  of  some 
nice  distinction,  or  the  solving  of  some  intricate  problem  which 
no  one  but  themselves  can  appreciate,  and  in  which  no  one  but 
themselves  (and  their  clients)  take  any  interest.   There  is  sonic 


428  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

truth  in  all  this.  The  whole  community  stands  ready  to  read 
the  last  production  of  the  literary  man,  so  only  that  he  make 
it  worth  reading,  and  often  without  requiring '  even  so  much  ; 
whereas,  the  neatest  point  that  a  lawyer  could  take  is  consti- 
tutionally repulsive  to  one-half  of  creation,  and  dry  and  un- 
meaning to  the  greater  part  of  the  remainder.  Even  those 
whose  names  are  on  the  Hps  of  men,  owe  their  good  fortune 
often  to  something  other  than  their  law.  If  Blackstone  were 
not  among  the  most  classical  writers  of  the  English  language, 
we  should  not  have  lived  to  see  twenty-one  English  editions  of 
his  Commentaries.  He  was  probably  a  less  profound  lawyer 
than  several  sergeants  who  practised  before  him  in  the  Court 
of  Common  Pleas,  whose  names  would  escape  an  insertion  in 
the  most  Universal  Biographical  Dictionary.  So  the  success- 
ful lawyer  must  content  himself  with  his  worldly  prosperity, — 
if  in  his  lifetime  he  receives  his  good  things,  that  must  be  his 
comfort,  and  in  truth  it  is  no  small  one. 

But  the  nature  of  a  lawyer's  employment,  even  if  he  combine 
with  it  the  kindred  one  of  politics  and  legislation,  is  not  apt  to 
invest  his  home  with  that  attraction  to  the  stranger  which  the 
home  of  the  literary  man  possesses.  We  are  at  once  interested 
to  know  who  the  author  is,  who  has  charmed  us  by  the  quaint- 
ness  of  his  conceits,  or  the  freshness  and  purity  of  his  style. 
We  want  to  see  the  house  and  the  room,  where  those  intricate 
plots  are  matured,  or  those  life-like  characters  are  first  con- 
ceived. But  Coke  upon  Littleton,  seems  pretty  much  the  same, 
whether  read  upon  the  green  slope  of  a  country  hill,  or  in  the 
third  story  of  an  office  down  town.  Besides,  the  author  is  at 
liberty  to  seek  the  most  secluded  spots,  and  dwell  amongst  the 
most  romantic  scenery,  and  surround  himself  with  all  that 


STORY. 


429 


makes  life  beautiful  to  contemplate  ;  and  it  is  for  his  interest 
to  do  this,  in  order  that  his  mind  may  be  kept  open  to  im- 
pressions, his  spirits  elevated  and  serene,  and  his  whole  life 
calm  and  happy.  The  lawyer  on  the  other  hand,  must  seek 
communion,  not  with  nature,  but  with  men  ;  he  must  dwell 
among  large  communities,  and  rail  even  there  where  merchants 
most  do  congregate. 

The  home  of  the  distinguished  lawyer  and  statesman  whose 
name  is  placed  at  the  head  of  these  lines,  is  an  exception  from 
the  homes  of  others  of  his  peers  ;  if  it  be  true  that  it  is  the  fate 
of  a  laywer's  home  to  be  an  object  of  interest  to  its  inmates 
alone.  There  was  something  in  his  frank,  enthusiastic  and 
generous  nature,  which  made  him  always  susceptible  to  the  in- 
fluences of  home,  and  always  fitted  to  awake  and  to  wield  those 
enchantments  with  which  a  home  is  invested.  The  secluded 
peninsula  of  Marblehead,  with  its  long  firm  beach  upon  one 
side,  and  its  rocky  precipitous  shore  upon  the  other ;  begirt  on 
three  sides  by  the  ever-changing  Atlantic,  is  considered  by  his 
biographer  to  have  had  its  effect  in  moulding  the  character  of 
the  boy  ;  and  in  the  quiet,  tame  inland  beauty  of  Cambridge, 
with  its  academical  proprieties,  and  its  level  streets,  and  its 
spacious  marshes,  through  winch  the  winding  Charles  "  slips 
seaward  silently  ;  °  many  remain  outside  of  the  family  circle, 
to  testify  to  the  magical  attraction  which  once  hung  about  the 
narrow  brick  house  where  he  lived,  and  the  cordial  greeting 
which  the  visitor  received  at  the  hands  of  its  former  occupant. 

Judge  Story  was  born  in  the  antiquated,  primeval  fishing 
town  of  Marblehead  ;  a  town  presenting  such  a  rocky  and  bar- 
ren surface,  that  when  Whitfield  entered  it  for  the  first  time, 
he  was  fain  to  inquire,  "  Pray,  where  do  they  bury  their  dead  ?  '; 


430         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Story  himself  speaks  of  his  birthplace  as  "  a  secluded  fishing 
town,  having  no  general  connection  with  other  towns,  and,  not 
being  a  thoroughfare,  without  that  intercourse  which  brings 
strangers  to  visit  it,  or  to  form  an  acquaintance  with  its  in- 
habitants." In  fact  it  could  not  well  be  a  thoroughfare,  since  it 
leads  only  from  Salem  to  the  sea,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the 
latter  town  have  a  sufficiently  ready  access  of  their  own.  But 
though  Marblehead  with  its  scanty  soil,  and  its  isolated  posi- 
tion, is  neither  an  Eden  nor  a  thoroughfare,  it  is  at  least  a  stout 
old  place  where  men  are  grown  ;  where  an  entire  regiment  was 
furnished  for  the  cause  of  American  Independence,  completely 
officered  and  manned  by  brave  men,  to  whom  the  dangers  of 
war  were  but  a  continuation  of  previous  lives  of  peril,  and  who 
supplied  besides  more  privateers  than  history  has  recorded,  to 
harass  the  enemy  upon  an  element  with  which  they  were  more 
familiar. 

The  town  of  Marblehead  is  supported  by  the  fishery  busi- 
ness. A  large  portion  of  its  inhabitants  are  simple  fishermen, 
whose  manhood  is  passed  in  voyages  to  the  Great  Banks,  and 
voyages  back  ;  a  constant  succession  of  those  perils  which  are 
incident  to  the  sea,  with  long  winter  evenings  of  sailors'  yarns 
and  ghost  stories,  in  one  monotonous  round,  till  they  finally  de- 
part 

"  On  that  drear  voyage  from  whose  night 
The  ominous  shadows  never  lift." 

It  was  among  a  population  of  this  kind,  and  at  a  time  when  a 
long  and  disastrous  war  had  crippled  their  resources,  that  the 
youthful  Story  began  with  his  accustomed  enthusiasm  to  ac- 
quire that  education  whose  root  is  bitter  when  grown  in  the 


STORY. 


431 


most  favorable  soil.  Without  advantages  of  good  schooling, 
or  a  plentiful  supply  of  books,  he  did  what  thousands  of  others, 
great  and  small,  have  done  and  are  doing  ;  that  is,  he  acquired 
an  education  without  the  modern  improvements  on  which  our 
boys  rely,  and  whose  value  their  parents  and  teachers  are  so  apt 
to  over-estimate.  In  the  shop  of  the  Marblehead  barber,  the 
village  great  men  assembled  to  hear  the  news,  and  to  hold  forth 
upon  the  condition  and  prospects  of  the  young  republic,  as  well 
as  to  have  their  ambrosial  locks  powdered  and  their  beards  re- 
moved. Here,  in  place  of  the  modern  lecture  room,  our  young- 
hero  resorted,  and  listened  reverently  to  oracular  utterances 
from  wise  mouths  in  the  intervals  of  the  shaving  brush  and  the 
razor.  The  village  barber  himself,  endowed  with  an  easy  gar- 
rulity, more  natural  and  professional  than  the  stately  reserve 
of  his  metropolitan  brother,  could,  at  his  leisure,  retail  the 
wisdom  of  his  many  councillors,  diluted  to  the  point  where  it 
admitted  of  the  mental  digestion  of  a  child. 

This,  together  with  the  usual  toils  and  discouragements  of 
the  classics,  and  the  hopes  and  fears  which  a  college  examination 
inspires,  made  up  a  boy's  life  in  Marblehead  before  this  centu- 
ry began.  The  old  Judge,  late  in  life  recalling  these  early 
Marblehead  times,  speaks  of  other  influences,  some  of  whose 
effect  is,  we  imagine,  derived  from  the  fact  that  he  is  viewing 
them  in  his  maturity,  as  they  then  appear,  softened  as  seen 
down  the  long  vista  of  nearly  forty  years.  "  My  delight/'  he 
says,  "  was  to  roam  over  the  narrow  and  rude  territory  of  my 
native  town  ;  to  traverse  its  secluded  beaches  and  its  shallow 
inlets  ;  to  gaze  upon  the  sleepless  ocean  ;  to  lay  myself  down 
on  the  sunny  rocks,  and  listen  to  the  deep  tones  of  the  rising 
and  the  falling  tides  ;  to  look  abroad  when  the  foaming  waves 


432  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

were  driven  with  terrific  force  and  uproar  against  the  barren 
cliffs  or  the  rocky  promontories,  which  every  where  opposed 
their  immovable  fronts  to  resist  them  ;  to  seek,  in  the  midst 
of  the  tremendous  majesty  of  an  eastern  storm,  some  elevated 
spot,  where,  in  security,  I  could  mark  the  mountain  billow 
break  upon  the  distant  shore,  or  dash  its  broken  waters  over 
the  lofty  rocks  which  here  and  there  stood  along  the  coast, 
naked  and  weather-beaten.  But  still  more  was  I  pleased  in 
a  calm  summer  day,  to  lay  myself  down  alone  on  one  of  the 
beautiful  heights  which  overlook  the  harbor  of  Salem,  and  to 
listen  to  the  broken  sounds  of  the  hammers  in  the  distant  ship- 
yards, or  to  the  soft  dash  of  the  oar  of  some  swift-moving 
boat,  or  to  the  soft  ripple  of  the  murmuring  wave ;  or  to  gaze 
on  the  swelling  sail,  or  the  flying  bird,  or  the  scarcely  moving 
smoke,  in  a  re  very  of  delicious  indolence." 

When  Story  left  Marblehead  and  entered  Harvard  College 
in  1795,  he  was  brought  in  contact  with  somewhat  different 
circumstances  and  different  temptations  from  those  which  there 
await  the  youthful  student  in  these  days.  Coming  from  a 
small  and  tolerably  illiterate  fishing  town,  into  the  midst  of 
such  literary  shades,  being  in  daily  converse  with  young  men 
at  an  age  when  the  mind  is  lively,  and  full  of  the  easy  self- 
confidence  which  the  mutual  flattery  of  a  College  begets,  his 
enthusiasm  was  quickened  anew,  and  his  generous  nature  at- 
tacked on  its  weakest  side.  "  I  seemed,"  he  says,  "  to  breathe 
a  higher  atmosphere,  and  to  look  abroad  with  a  wider  vision 
and  more  comprehensive  powers.  Instead  of  the  narrow  group 
of  a  village,  I  was  suddenly  brought  into  a  large  circle  of  young 
men  engaged  in  literary  pursuits,  and  warmed  and  cheered  by 
the  hopes  of  future  eminence."    There  is,  perhaps,  no  impro- 


STORY. 


433 


priety  in  saying,  that  at  fifteen,  we  look  abroad  with  a  wider 
vision  and  more  comprehensive  powers  than  we  do  at  twelve, 
and  such  young  men  as  Channing,  his  friendly  rival  in  College, 
and  Tuckerman,  his  chum,  might  well  be  warmed  and  cheered 
by  the  hopes  of  future  eminence.  The  students  in  those  days 
enjoyed  as  much  seclusion  as  now,  with  perhaps  a  little  less 
general  culture  and  a  little  more  dissipation.  But,  as  we  have 
intimated,  in  some  respects  the  changes  were  greater.  The 
anti-republican  system  of  "fagging"  had  not  then  become  quite 
obsolete  and  forgotten,  but  existed  at  least  in  oral  tradition, 
whereas  now,  its  less  rigorous  substitute  has  recently  fallen 
into  disuse.  In  those  days  there  was  not  even  an  unsuccessful 
attempt,  to  render  the  intercourse  between  the  Professors  and 
the  students  in  any  sense  parental,  but  the  formal  and  uncon- 
fiding  manners  of  the  old  school  were  preached,  as  well  as 
practised.  The  line  of  division  between  the  College  and  the 
town  was  sharply  drawn  and  unhesitatingly  maintained  on  the 
part  of  the  former,  and  the  opportunities  for  social  intercourse 
with  Boston  were  comparatively  limited,  when  omnibuses  were 
unknown,  and  the  bridge  regarded  as  a  somewhat  hazardous 
speculation.  Now  the  students  are  to  be  seen  in  Washington 
street  on  Saturdays,  and  there  is  scarce  an  evening's  entertain- 
ment in  Boston,  without  young  representatives  from  Cam- 
bridge. And  the  old  town  itself  has  added  so  many  new  houses 
to  its  former  number,  that  a  great  change  is  coming  over  the 
face  of  Cambridge  society.  The  term  "the  season"  is  beginning 
■to  have  its  proper  significance,  the  winter  months  being  pretty 
well  filled  with  the  customary  social  observances.  It  is  true 
that  the  College  is  still  the  controlling  element.  Festivities 
are  mostly  suspended  during  the  first  two  months  of  the  year, 


434         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

which  is  the  time  of  the  winter  vacation,  and  revive  again  with 
the  return  of  the  spring  and  the  students.  But  from  faint 
symptoms  which  may  be  detected  by  the  anxious  observer, 
there  is  reason  to  fear  that  it  may  not  be  long  before  the  great 
body  of  the  students  will  have  cause  on  their  part,  to  complain 
of  that  exclusiveness  which  they  have  exercised  as  their  prerog- 
ative for  more  than  two  centuries. 

The  four  short  years  of  Story's  undergraduate  existence 
were  passed  free,  alike  from  this  species  of  social  pleasure  and 
social  anxiety.  He  was  naturally  fond  of  company,  and  had 
a  healthy,  youthful  taste  for  conviviality  ;  but  he  shrank  in- 
stinctively from  excesses,  and  was,  fortunately,  also  ambitious 
to  win  a  high  rank  for  scholarship.  His  companions  were 
of  his  own  age,  and  those  divinities  who  people  the  inner 
chambers  of  a  young  man's  fancy  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  were 
not  upon  the  spot  to  distract  overmuch  his  attention  from  his 
studies.  He  left  his  home  within  the  College  walls  before  he 
had  arrived  at  manhood,  and  returned  again  some  thirty  years 
after  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers,  to  repay  to  his  foster 
mother  the  debt  which  he  owed  for  his  education,  by  imparting 
to  her  younger  children  the  results  of  his  experience.  Cam- 
bridge is  to  be  considered  as  his  home  ;  it  was  there  that  he 
won  his  greatest  fame,  it  was  there  that  he  fondly  turned  to 
refresh  himself  after  his  labors  on  the  full  bench  and  the 
circuit  ;  this  was  the  home  of  his  affections  and  his  interests, 
and  there  his  earnest  and  active  life  was  brought  to  its  calm 
and  peaceful  close. 

In  Brattle-street,  a  little  distance  on  the  road  from  the 
Colleges  to  Mount  Auburn,  there  stands  a  narrow  brick  house, 
with  its  gable  end  to  the  street,  facing  the  east,  and  a  long 


STORY. 


435 


piazza  on  its  southern  side.  It  is  situated  just  at  the  head  of 
Appian  Way — not  the  Queen  of  Ways,  leading  from  Rome  to 
Brundusium,  over  which  Horace  journeyed  in  company  with 
Virgil,  and  Paul's  brethren  came  to  meet  him  as  far  as  Appii 
Forum  and  The  Three  Taverns,  but  a  short  lane,  boasting  not 
many  more  yards  than  its  namesake  miles  ;  leading  from 
Cambridge  Common  to  Brattle-street,  journeyed  over  by  hur- 
rying students  with  Horace  and  Virgil  under  their  arms, 
without  a  single  tavern  in  it,  and  hardly  long  enough  to  ac- 
commodate three.  The  external  appearance  of  the  house 
would  hardly  attract  or  reward  the  attention  of  the  passer  by. 
It  stands  by  itself,  looking  as  much  too  high  for  its  width  as 
an  ordinary  city  residence  in  New- York,  that  has  sprung  up 
in  advance  of  the  rest  of  its  block.  The  street  in  which  it 
stands  is  flat  and  shady,  but  wonderfully  dusty  nevertheless , 
for  Cambridge  is  a  town 

"  Where  dust  and  mud  the  equal  year  divide." 

The  old  inhabitants  may  be  supposed  to  be  reconciled  to  that 
dust,  of  which  they  are  made,  and  to  which  they  naturally 
expect  in  a  few  years  to  return.  Thus  Lowell  finds  it  in  his 
heart  to  sing  the  praises  of  Cambridge  soil, 

"  Dear  native  town !  whose  choking  elms  each  year 
With  eddying  dust  before  their  time  turn  gray, 
Pining  for  rain, — to  me  thy  dust  is  dear ; 
It  glorifies  the  eve  of  Summer  day." 

But,  however  native  Cantabs  may  feel,  the  temporary  resident 
hails  the  friendly  watering-cart,  which  appears  at  intervals  in 
the  streets,  since  the  old  town  has  changed  itself  into  a  city. 


436  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


A  flower-garden  on  the  south  side,  separates  Judge  Story's 
house  from  the  village  blacksmith,  who  has  had  the  rare  hap- 
piness of  being  celebrated  in  the  verses  of  his  two  fellow-towns- 
men, the  poets  Longfellow  and  Lowell  ; 

"  Under  a  spreading  chestnut  tree, 

The  village  smithy  stands ; 
The  smith,  a  mighty  man  is  he, 

With  large  and  sinewy  hands, 
And  the  muscles  of  his  brawny  arm 

Are  strong  as  iron  bands. 

"  His  hair  is  crisp,  and  black,  and  long, 

His  face  is  like  the  tan, 
His  brow  is  wet  with  honest  sweat, 

He  earns  whate'er  he  can, 
And  looks  the  whole  world  in  the  face 

For  he  owes  not  any  man. 

"  Week  in,  week  out,  from  morn  to  night, 
You  can  hear  his  bellows  blow ; 
You  can  hear  him  swing  his  heavy  sledge, 

With  measured  beat  and  slow, 
Like  a  sexton  ringing  the  village  bell, 
When  the  evening  sun  is  low. 

"  And  children  coming  home  from  school 

Look  in  at  the  open  door; 
They  love  to  see  the  flaming  forge, 

And  hear  the  bellows  roar, 
And  catch  the  burning  sparks  that  fly 

Like  chaff  from  a  threshing  floor." 

Among  the  children  who  thus  looked  in  upon  the  old  smith 
in  former  days,  was  Lowell  himself,  who  has  embodied  this 
juvenile  reminiscence  in  a  few  lines,  which  may  be  appropri- 
ately inserted  here,  and  the  curious  reader  may  contrast  the 


STORY. 


437 


image  they  contain,  with  the  parallel  one  in  the  concluding 
lines  from  Longfellow,  quoted  above. 

"How  many  times  prouder  than  King  on  throne, 
Loosed  from  the  village  school-dame's  A's  and  B's, 

Panting  have  I  the  creaky  bellows  blown, 
And  watched  the  pent  volcano's  red  increase, 

Then  paused  to  see  the  ponderous  sledge  brought  down 

By  that  hard  arm  voluminous  and  brown, 
From  the  white  iron  swarm  its  golden  vanishing  bees." 

The  village  blacksmith  is  dead  now,  the  fires  which  he  lighted 
in  the  forge  have  gone  out,  and  an  unknown  successor  wields 
the  sledge,  which  may  still  be  heard  as  ever,  from  the  piazza 
of  his  neighbor's  house,  and  down  the  road  on  the  other  side, 
as  far  as  the  row  of  lindens  which  overshadow  a  mansion  once 
inhabited  by  the  worthy  old  Tory,  Brattle,  who  has  given  his 
name  to  the  street. 

The  external  appearance  of  Judge  Story's  house  does  not 
add  much  to  the  poetry  of  its  surroundings.  It  runs  back  in 
an  irregular  way,  a  long  distance  from  the  street,  and  at  its 
furthermost  end,  in  the  second  story,  is,  or  used  to  be,  the 
library,  commanding  the  same  view  which  constituted  such  a 
recommendation  to  Dick  Swiveller's  house,  namely,  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  way.  There  is  not,  therefore,  an  opportunity 
for  much  romance  to  cluster  about  it,  nor  is  its  attractiveness 
increased,  when  the  reader  is  reminded  that  the  story  beneath 
answered  the  purposes  of  a  woodshed.  But  the  house  which 
witnessed  the  daily  labors  of  such  a  man,  need  not  covet  or  pre- 
tend to  those  outside  attractions  which  it  unquestionably  lacks. 

Judge  Story  removed  to  Cambridge,  for  the  purpose  of 
taking  charge  of  the  Law-school  connected  with  the  Uni- 


438  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

versity.  This  institution  had  just  received  an  endowment  from 
Nathan  Dane,  which,  together  with  the  labors  and  reputation 
of  the  new  Professor,  were  the  prime  causes  of  its  establishment 
upon  such  a  durable  foundation,  that  the  number  of  its  students 
was  increased  five  fold.  From  this  period,  his  time  was  divided 
among  Washington,  during  the  sitting  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
the  first  circuit  in  the  New-England  States,  and  Cambridge, 
which  henceforward  was  his  home.  The  Law-school  he  re- 
garded as  his  favorite  and  most  important  field  of  labor,  and 
always  recurred  to  his  connection  with  it,  with  pleasure  and 
pride  ;  and  a  word  concerning  this  Institution  may,  with  pro- 
priety, be  coupled  with  a  description  of  his  personal  habits,  so 
that  both  together  will  furnish,  better  than  any  thing  else,  a 
correct  picture  of  the  daily  life  of  the  man. 

At  the  time  that  Story  accepted  the  Dane  Professorship  in 
the  Law-school  in  Cambridge  he  had  already  achieved  the 
labor  of  a  lifetime.  A  lucrative  business  at  the  bar,  was 
quitted  for  a  seat  upon  the  bench  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States.  He  began  his  political  life  as  a  democrat  and 
stanch  supporter  of  J efferson,  when  there  were  not  many  such 
in  Massachusetts  ;  but  in  later  life  he  became  a  whig.  The 
natural  effect  of  a  judicial  station  upon  a  mind  like  his,  was 
to  make  him  cautious  and  conservative  ;  and  he  finally  seemed 
a  little  distrustful  of  even  the  party  with  which  he  was  asso- 
ciated. In  the  convention  of  1820,  which  formed  the  existing 
constitution  of  Massachusetts,  he  took  an  active  part  with  such 
men  as  Webster  and  Parker,  and  Quincy  ;  and  Prescott,  and 
many  of  our  important  mercantile  statutes  and  bankrupt  laws 
were  drawn  by  him,  nearly,  or  quite  in  the  form  in  which  they 
were  finally  passd  by  Congress.   He  had  been  for  about  eighteen 


STORY. 


439 


years  an  associate  J ustice  of  the  Supreme  Court,  when,  without 
resigning  that  position,  he  assumed  the  almost  equally  onerous 
duties  of  a  Professor  of  Law.  This  new  field  of  activity  was 
entered  upon  with  earnestness  and  zeal,  and  it  is  not  necessary 
to  state  the  success  with  which  his  efforts  were  attended. 
Towards  the  students  his  manner  was  familiar  and  affectionate. 
He  was  fond  of  designating  them  as  "  my  boys,"  and  without 
assuming  any  superiority,  or  exacting  any  formal  respect,  he 
participated  so  far  as  he  was  able  in  their  success  and  failure  ; 
and  extended  beyond  the  narrow  period  of  the  school,  far  into 
active  life,  that  interest  in  their  behalf  which  he  had  contracted 
as  their  teacher.  His  lectures  upon  what  are  commonly  con- 
sidered the  dry  topics  of  the  law,  were  delivered  with  enthu- 
siasm, and  illustrated  with  copious  anecdotes  from  the  store- 
house of  his  memory  and  his  experience,  and  filled  with  episodes 
which  were  suggested  to  his  active  mind  at  almost  every  step. 
Indeed,  if  one  were  disposed  to  point  out  his  prominent  fault 
as  a  legal  writer,  he  would  probably  select  that  diffuseness  of 
style  and  copiousness  of  illustration,  which,  though  it  contri- 
butes somewhat  to  fulness  and  perspicuity,  does  it  nevertheless 
at  the  cost  of  convenient  brevity  ;  which  can  more  easily  be 
dispensed  with  in  a  poem  than  in  a  law-book.  But  that 
characteristic  which  might  perhaps  be  considered  as  a  blemish 
in  his  legal  treatises,  only  rendered  him  better  qualified  for  a 
successful  oral  lecturer.  A  printed  volume  admits  of  the  last 
degree  of  condensation,  because  repeated  perusals  of  one  page 
will  effect  every  thing  which  could  be  expected  from  a  prolonged 
discussion  over  many  ;  and  to  text-books  of  law,  the  student 
or  the  practitioner  resort  principally  for  a  statement  of  results, 
with  the  addition  of  only  so  much  general  reasoning  as  may 


440  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

render  the  results  intelligible.  In  an  oral  lecture  on  the 
other  hand,  as  the  attention  cannot  be  arrested,  or  time  taken 
to  overcome  difficulties,  repetition  and  reiteration,  so  far  from 
being  a  blemish,  is  a  merit.  To  these  qualifications  Story- 
added  engaging  manners,  and  a  personal  presence,  which  gave 
him  extraordinary  influence  over  the  young  men  who  crowded 
to  receive  the  benefit  of  his  instructions.  His  zeal  was  con- 
tagious, and  awakened  similar  feelings  in  his  hearers,  and  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  speaker  and  the  audience  acted  and  reacted 
upon  each  other.  Many  anecdotes  are  related  to  show  the 
interest  in  the  study  of  the  lawy  which,  under  his  magical  in- 
fluence, was  awakened,  not  only  among  the  few  who  are  natu- 
rally studious,  but  among  the  whole  body  of  the  students 
almost  without  exception. 

Saturday  is  a  day  of  rest  in  Cambridge  by  immemorial 
usage.  To  force  upon  the  undergraduates  a  recitation  on 
Saturday  afternoon,  would  outrage  their  feelings  to  such  an  ex- 
tent, as  to  justify  in  their  opinion  a  resort  to  the  last  appeal, 
namely,  a  rebellion.  Yet  under  Story's  ministrations  the  law- 
students  were  eager  to  violate  the  sacredness  of  Saturday,  to 
which  the  Judge  assented,  animated  by  a  zeal  superior  to 
their  own.  So  that  the  whole  week  was  devoted  to  lectures, 
and  the  conducting  in  moot  courts  of  prepared  cases.  "  I 
have  given,"  says  the  Judge  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "  nearly  the 
whole  of  last  term,  when  not  on  judicial  duty,  two  lectures 
every  day,  and  even  broke  in  upon  the  sanctity  of  the  dies  non 
juridicus,  Saturday.  It  was  carried  by  acclamation  in  the 
school ;  so  that  you  see  we  are  alive."  One  of  the  pupils  de- 
scribes a  similar  incident  ;  a  case  was  to  be  adjourned,  and 
Saturday  seemed  the  most  convenient  time,  "  the  counsel  were 


STORY. 


441 


anxious  to  argue  it,  but  unwilling  to  resort  to  that  extreme 
measure.  J udge  Story  said — Gentlemen,  the  only  time  we  can 
hear  this  case,  is  Saturday  afternoon.  This  is  dies  71  on,  and 
no  one  is  obliged  or  expected  to  attend.  I  am  to  hold  Court 
in  Boston  until  two  o'clock.  I  will  ride  directly  out,  take  a 
hasty  dinner,  and  be  here  by  half-past  three  o'clock,  and  hear 
the  case,  if  you  are  willing.  He  looked  round  the  school  for  a 
reply.  We  felt  ashamed,  in  our  own  business  in  which  we 
were  alone  interested,  to  be  outdone  in  zeal  and  labor  by  this 
aged  and  distinguished  man,  to  whom  the  case  was  but  child's 
play,  a  tale  twice  told  and  ;  who  was  himself  pressed  down  by 
almost  incredible  labors.  The  proposal  was  unanimously  ac- 
cepted." The  same  interesting  communication  describes  the 
scene  which  took  place  when  the  Judge  returned  to  Cambridge 
in  the  winter  from  Washington.  "  The  school  was  the  first 
place  he  visited  after  his  own  fireside.  His  return,  always 
looked  for,  and  known,  filled  the  library.  His  reception  was 
that  of  a  returned  father.  He  shook  all  by  the  hand,  even 
the  most  obscure  and  indifferent  ;  and  an  hour  or  two  was 
spent  in  the  most  exciting,  instructive,  and  entertaining  de- 
scriptions and  anecdotes  of  the  events  of  the  term.  Inquiries 
were  put  by  the  students  from  different  States,  as  to  leading 
counsel,  or  interesting  causes  from  their  section  of  the  coun- 
try ;  and  he  told  us  as  one  would  have  described  to  a  company 
of  squires  and  pages,  a  tournament  of  monarchs  and  nobles  on 
fields  of  cloth  of  gold  : — how  Webster  spoke  in  this  case,  Le- 
gare"  or  Clay,  or  Crittenden,  General  Jones,  Choate  or  Spencer, 
in  that  ;  with  anecdotes  of  the  cases  and  points,  and  all  the 
currents  of  the  heady  fight." 

Judge  Story's  gracious  and  dignified  demeanor  upon  the 


442  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

bench  is  too  well  known,  and  not  closely  enough  connected 
with  an  account  of  his  home  life,  to  justify  a  description  here. 
All  who  have  spoken  upon  the  subject,  have  borne  witness  to 
the  kindness  and  courtesy  with  which  he  treated  the  bar,  par- 
ticularly the  younger  members,  who  most  need,  and  best  ap- 
preciate such  consideration.  No  lawyer  was  provoked  by  cap- 
tious remarks,  or  mortified  by  inattention  or  indifference,  or 
that  offensive  assumption  of  superiority  which  places  the 
counsel  at  such  disadvantage  with  the  judge,  and  lowers  his 
credit  with  his  clients  and  the  spectators.  With  novices  at  the 
bar  his  manner  was  patient  and  encouraging,  with  the  leaders 
whose  position  was  nearly  level  with  his  own,  attentive,  cordial, 
at  times  even  familiar,  but  always  dignified.  Among  the 
prominent  lawyers  upon  the  Maine  circuit,  was  his  classmate 
iu  college,  and  intimate  friend,  Hon.  Stephen  Longfellow,  the 
father  of  the  poet,  of  whom  the  following  story  is  told.  When 
any  objection  or  qualification  was  started  by  the  Court,  to  a 
point  which  he  was  pressing  upon  its  attention,  too  courteous 
to  question  or  oppose  the  opinion  of  the  Judge,  he  would 
escape  under  this  formula,  "  But  there  is  this  distinction,  may 
it  please  your  honor  ;  "  which  distinction,  when  it  came  to  be 
stated,  was  often  so  exceedingly  thin,  that  its  existence  could 
be  discerned  only  by  the  learned  gentleman  himself.  This  little 
mannerism  was  known  and  observed  among  his  friends  in  the 
profession,  one  of  whom  now  living  composed  and  passed  round 
the  bar  this  epitaph  :  "  Here  lies  Stephen  Longfellow,  LL.  D. 
Born  &c.  Died  &c.  With  this  Distinction.  That  such  a  man 
can  never  die."  This  epitaph  reached  the  bench  ;  and  Mr. 
Longfellow  himself,  who  not  long  afterwards  on  an  argument, 


STORY. 


443 


was  met  by  a  question  from  the  Judge.  cc  But,  may  it  please 
your  honor,  there  is  this  dis — "  "  Out  with  it,  brother  Long- 
fellow, "  said  Judge  Story  with  a  good-humored  smile.  But  it 
would  not  come.  The  epitaph  records  the  death  of  the  dis- 
tinction. 

The  interest  which  Judge  Story  felt  in  the  prosperity  of 
his  University,  was  not  wholly  confined  to  the  Law-school, 
with  which  he  was  immediately  connected.  He  was  one  of  the 
overseers  of  the  College,  and  entered  warmly  and  prominently 
into  every  question  affecting  the  welfare  of  the  Institution  ; 
from  an  elaborate  and  recondite  argument  upon  the  meaning  of 
the  word  "  Fellows,"  in  the  charter  of  the  college, — the  doubt 
being,  whether  none  but  resident  instructors  were  eligible  as 
Fellows,  or  whether  the  word  is  merely  synonymous  with  socius 
or  associate, — down  to  a  reform  in  the  social  observances  of  the 
students  upon  the  occasion  of  what  is  called  Glass  Day.  The 
old  custom  had  been  for  the  students  on  the  last  day  of  their 
meeting,  before  Commencement,  to  partake  together  of  an  un- 
defined quantity  of  punch  from  a  large  reservoir  of  that  bever- 
age previously  prepared.  In  more  modern  times,  this  habit 
came  to  be  justly  considered  as  subversive  of  sobriety  and  good 
order,  and  it  was  proposed  to  recast  entirely  the  order  of  ex- 
ercises. Of  this  reform  Judge  Story  was  an  advocate  ;  he  was 
present  at  the  first  celebration  under  the  new  order  of  things, 
and  was  much  gratified  and  elated  at  the  change.  Class  Day 
is  now  the  culminating  point  of  the  student's  life — the  exer- 
cises are  an  oration  and  poem  in  the  morning,  and  a  ball  and 
reception  in  the  afternoon  and  evening.  More  ladies  visit  the 
College  on  that  day,  than  on  any  other,  and  the  students  have 

20 


444  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

in  lieu  of  their  punch  the  less  intoxicating  recreation  of  a 
polka. 

Judge  Story  was  about  five  feet  eight  inches  tall,  not  above 
the  middle  height,  with  a  compact  and  solid  figure,  and  active 
and  rapid  in  his  movements.  He  seldom,  if  ever,  loitered 
along  ;  his  customary  gait  was  hasty  and  hurried,  and  he  had 
a  habit  of  casting  quick  eager  glances  about  him  as  he  moved. 
The  expression  of  his  face  was  animated  and  changing,  his 
eyes  were  blue,  his  mouth  large,  his  voice  clear  and  flexible, 
and  his  laugh  hearty  and  exhilarating.  Late  in  life  he  was 
bald  upon  the  top  of  his  head,  and  his  white  hair  below,  and 
the  benign  expression  of  his  countenance,  gave  him  a  dignified 
and  venerable  appearance,  particularly  when  seated  upon  the 
bench.  His  personal  habits  were  regular  and  systematic  in 
the  extreme.  He  never  rose  before  seven,  and  was  always  in 
bed  by  half-past  ten.  His  constitution  required  eight  good 
hours  of  sleep,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  gratify  it  in  that 
particular.  It  was  never  intended  that  all  men  should  rise  at 
the  same  hour,  and  it  is  no  great  exercise  of  virtue  on  the  part 
of  those  who  do  not  enjoy  sleep,  to  get  up  early.  After  break- 
fasting he  read  a  newspaper  for  a  half  hour,  and  then  worked 
faithfully,  till  called  off  to  attend  the  lecture  room  or  the  court. 
After  dinner  he  resumed  his  labors  so  long  as  daylight  lasted, 
and  the  evening  was  devoted  until  bedtime  to  light  reading, 
or  social  recreation  in  the  midst  of  his  family.  He  could  pass 
easily  from  one  species  of  employment  to  another  without  loss 
of  time,  and  by  working  steadily  when  he  did  work,  he  was 
enabled  to  go  through  a  very  great  amount  of  labor  without 
any  excessive  fatigue  or  exhaustion.    In  this  way  his  life  was 


STORY. 


445 


prolonged,  and  he  retained  to  the  last,  undisturbed  possession 
of  all  his  faculties.  He  died  in  September  184.").  at  the  age 
of  sixty-six,  having  been  for  thirty-four  years  a  Judge  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  and  for  sixteen  years  a 
Professor  of  law  in  the  school  at  Cambridge. 


W  H  E  A  T  0  N . 


AMONG  the  persons  whom  religious  persecution  compelled 
to  leave  England  during  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  and  seek 
an  asylum  in  the  new  world,  was  Robert  Wheaton,  a  Baptist 
clergyman.  He  first  established  himself  in  Salem,  but  when  the 
intolerance  of  that  community  led  those  of  his  persuasion  to 
remove  elsewhere,  he  joined  Roger  Williams,  and  assisted  him 
in  founding  the  now  flourishing  State  of  Rhode  Island. 

From  him  Henry  Wheaton  was  descended.  He  was  born 
in  Providence,  1786,  and  entered  Rhode  Island  College  at  tin- 
age  of  thirteen.    He  was  already  remarkable  for  bis  love  of 

29 


450         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMAN. 

reading,  particularly  in  the  branches  of  history  and  literature, 
and  appears  to  have  studied  more  from  the  pleasure  he  had  iD 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  than  from  any  love  of  distinc- 
tion. He  graduated  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  and  immediately 
after  entered  upon  the  study  of  the  law,  in  compliance  with 
his  father's  wishes  rather  than  from  personal  inclination  ;  for 
at  that  period  he  is  said  not  to  have  entertained  any  particu- 
lar leaning  towards  the  legal  profession.  In  1806  he  went 
abroad  to  complete  his  education.  He  passed  some  time  at 
Poitiers,  where  he  learned  to  speak  and  write  French  fluently, 
and  had  an  opportunity  of  studying  French  law,  and  especial- 
ly the  Code  Napoleon,  which  had  then  but  recently  been  pro- 
mulgated. He  also  attended  the  courts  of  justice,  and  heard 
some  of  the  most  distinguished  lawyers  of  the  time,  of  whose 
eloquence  he  often  spoke  in  his  letters  to  his  family.  He  al- 
ways recurred  with  pleasure  in  later  years  to  the  time  he  pass- 
ed at  Poitiers.  The  kindness  he  experienced  from  the  family 
in  which  he  lived,  the  graceful  politeness  and  cheerfulness  of 
the  French  character,  gave  him  ever  after  a  predilection  in  fa- 
vor of  France.  After  spending  a  few  weeks  in  Paris,  he  went 
to  England,  where  he  applied  himself  to  the  study  of  English 
law.  He  was  often  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Monroe,  then  our  Min- 
ister in  London,  who  seems  to  have  taken  some  pains  to  con- 
verse with  him  on  the  political  and  social  state  of  Europe. 
Perhaps  these  conversations  contributed  to  form  his  taste  for 
diplomatic  life,  in  which  he  was  destined  to  play  so  distin- 
guished a  part,  and  also  to  lead  him  in  its  course  to  show  that 
willingness  to  impart  information  of  a  similar  kind,  to-  the 
young  men  by  whom  he  was  himself  surrounded,  which  was  so 
pleasing  a  trait  in  his  character. 


WHEATON. 


451 


Soon  after  his  return  from  Europe  he  was  admitted  to  the 
bar  in  his  native  State,  where  he  continued  to  practise  lili 
1813.  At  that  period,  feeling  the  want  of  a  wider  field  in 
which  to  exercise  his  talents,  he  determined,  having  previously 
married  his  cousin,  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Wheaton  of  Provi- 
dence, to  remove  to  New- York  with  his  wife.  We  must  not 
omit  to  mention,  that  before  leaving  Providence  he  pronoun- 
ced a  Fourth  of  July  Oration,  in  which  he  spoke  with  generous 
indignation  of  the  bloody  wars  which  then  distracted  Europe, 
and  the  disastrous  consequences  of  which  his  residence  in  France 
had  given  him  an  opportunity  to  observe.  But  although  thus 
warmly  opposed  to  wars  of  conquest,  there  were  cases  in 
which  he  deemed  resistance  a  sacred  duty  ;  he  therefore  zeal- 
ously devoted  his  pen  to  encouraging  his  fellow-countrymen  in 
resisting  the  unjust  encroachments  of  England.  During  two 
years  he  edited  the  National  Advocate,  and  the  spirit  as  well 
as  the  fairness  with  which  its  leading  articles  were  written, 
insured  the  success  of  the  paper,  and  established  his  reputa- 
tion in  New- York.  At  the  same  time  he  held  the  office  of 
Justice  of  the  Marine  Court,  and  for  a  few  months  that  also  of 
Army  Judge  Advocate.  In  1815  he  returned  to  the  practice 
of  his  profession,  and  published  in  the  same  year  a  Treatise  on 
the  Law  of  Maritime  Captures  and  Prizes,  which  Mr.  Reddie 
of  Edinburgh  has  since  pronounced  to  have  been  the  best  wi  irk 
then  published  on  the  subject ;  no  small  praise,  if  we  consider 
that  Mr.  Wheaton  was  only  thirty  years  of  age  at  the  time  it 
was  written.  In  1816  he  was  named  Reporter  of  the  Supreme 
Court  at  Washington,  and  continued  to  hold  this  place  until 
1827.  The  Reports,  of  which  he  published  a  volume  yearly, 
and  which  were  highly  esteemed  by  American  lawyers,  were 


452         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

abridged  without  his  consent  soon  after  he  went  abroad.  The 
publication  of  this  abridgment  occasioned  a  lawsuit,  which 
ended  only  with  his  life.  The  following  letter,  for  which  we 
are  indebted  to  the  kindness  of  Professor  Parsons,  of  the  Law- 
school  in  Cambridge,  will,  we  think,  be  read  with  interest.  We 
must  only  remark,  that  it  is  an  error  to  suppose  that  Mr. 
Wheaton  shunned  general  society  after  he  went  to  Europe  ; 
he  joined  in  it,  on  the  contrary,  more  than  is  usual  to  men  of 
his  age  in  our  country. 

Cambridge,  May  22,  1853. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  offer  even  a  slight  contribution  to  this 
memorial,  of  one  so  worthy  of  all  respect  as  the  late  Mr. 
Wheaton.  And  you  must  permit  me  to  express  the  hope  that 
the  sketch  you  now  propose  to  make,  will  hereafter  be  expanded 
into  that  history  of  his  life  and  exhibition  of  his  character, 
which  should  be  given  to  the  world,  in  justice  to  him  and  to  the 
very  many  to  whom  it  would  be  most  acceptable.  I  can  speak 
of  him  from  personal  acquaintance,  only  after  a  long  interval, 
when  even  recollections  so  pleasant  as  those  of  my  intercourse 
with  him  have  become  somewhat  dim. 

"  It  was  at  the  very  close  of  the  year  1821,  that  I  went  to 
Washington,  to  pass  some  months  there.  The  commissioners 
to  distribute  the  money  due  to  American  citizens  under  the 
then  recent  treaty  with  Spain,  began  their  sessions  that  win- 
ter. Mr.  Webster  was  employed  by  most  of  the  large  claim- 
ants in  New  England,  and  I  went  with  him  to  assist  him  gen- 
erally, and  also  charged  by  some  of  those  claimants  with  the 
especial  care  of  their  interests.  In  New- York  I  became  ac- 
quainted with  Mr.  Wheaton ;  and  he  was  with  us  during  a 


WHEATON. 


453 


part  of  the  journey  to  Washington.  As  fellow-travellers,  we 
became  intimate,  and  during  the  whole  of  my  stay  in  Wash 
ington, — nearly  three  months, — this  intimacy  was  kept  up. 
From  many  parts  of  the  country,  eminent  lawyers  were  at 
Washington,  in  attendance  upon  the  Supreme  Court,  or  charg- 
ed with  the  care  of  cases  before  the  commissioners  under  the 
Spanish  treaty,  and  I  was  meeting  them  continually  in  so- 
ciety ;  and  I  had  the  good  fortune  also  to  become  acquainted 
with  many  of  the  most  distinguished  members  of  government 
and  of  Congress,  and  visited  freely  in  the  whole  range — then 
less  broad  than  now — of  society  in  Washington. 

"  Wherever  I  went  I  met  Mr.  Wheaton.  Every  where  he 
was  upon  the  footing,  not  of  a  received,  but  of  a  welcomed 
guest ;  and  he  seemed  to  be  most  intimate  in  the  best  houses. 
It  was  easy  to  see  the  cause  of  this.  His  important  position 
as  Keporter  of  the  decisions  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  Unit- 
ed States — which  office  he  had  then  held  for  six  years — 
brought  him  into  immediate  contact  not  only  with  the  judges 
of  the  court,  but  with  all  who  practised  in  it ;  and  it  might 
be  supposed  that  with  them  he  would  be  on  terms  of  intimacy 
and  friendship.  But  there  was  something  in  the  character  of 
that  friendship,  that  no  mere  position  explained  ;  and  he  in- 
spired an  equally  warm  regard  in  many  who  never  met  him  in 
his  official  duties.  Among  all  his  friends,  if  I  were  to  name 
any  persons,  I  think  it  would  be  Mr.  Webster  himself,  who 
treated  him  as  he  might  a  brother ;  Sir  Stratford  Canning, 
Minister  from  England,  and  M.  de  Neuville,  the  French  Min- 
ister, who  appeared  to  give  tone  and  character  to  Washington 
society  so  far  as  any  persons  can  influence  elements  so  di- 
versified and  refractory,  and  in  whose  houses  he  stood  on  the 


454  HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

footing  of  a  confidential  friend  ;  Mr  Lowndes  of  South  Caro- 
lina, a  most  wise  and  excellent  man  ;  and  lastly  and  most  of 
all,  Chief  Justice  Marshall.  Let  me  pause  a  moment  to  say- 
one  word  of  this  great  and  good  man,  to  whose  greatness  and 
whose  goodness,  equally,  this  country  is,  and  while  its  prosper- 
ity endures,  will  be  indebted  ;  for  his  greatness  rested  upon 
his  goodness  as  its  foundation.  Even  his  wide  and  accurate 
learning,  his  clear  and  close  reasoning,  his  profound  insight 
into  the  true  merits  and  exact  character  and  bearing  of  every 
question,  and  the  unerring  sagacity  which  enabled  him  to  see 
the  future  in  the  present ;  all  these  together,  and  whatever 
more  there  might  have  been  of  merely  intellectual  power, 
would  not  have  enabled  him  to  lay  the  foundations  of  our  na- 
tional and  constitutional  jurisprudence  writh  the  depth,  breadth, 
and  firmness,  which  all  attacks  upon  them  have,  as  yet,  only 
made  more  apparent,  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  moral  charac- 
ter. Here  lay  the  inmost  secret  of  his  power.  Men  felt,  and 
the  nation  felt,  his  incorruptibility ;  meaning  by  this,  not 
merely  the  absence  of  that  baser  and  more  obvious  selfishness, 
which  most  men  of  decent  self-respect  overcome  or  suppress  : 
but  his  perfect  and  manifest  freedom  from  all  motives  and  all 
influences  whatever,  which  could  tend  to  cloud  or  warp  his 
understanding,  or  qualify  the  utterance  of  his  wisdom.  He 
did  not  stand  before  us  a  man  of  living  ice,  perfectly  safe  be- 
cause perfectly  cold  ;  for  he  was  affectionate  and  gentle  as  a 
child  ;  excitable  even  to  enthusiasm,  when  that  kind  heart 
was  touched;  listening,  not  only  with  an  equal  strength  to  the 
strongest,  but  with  a  perfect  sympathy  to  the  eloquent,  and 
with  a  charming  courtesy  to  all.  There  he  stood,  and  no  one 
ever  saw  him  and  heard  him,  and  did  not  know  that  his  one 


WHEATON. 


455 


wish  was  to  do  his  great  duty  ;  and  that  his  admirable  intel- 
lect came  to  its  daily  tasks,  and  did  them,  wholly  free  from  all 
possible  distortion  or  disturbance,  not  because  he  was  strong 
enough  to  repel  all  the  influences  of  party,  or  passion,  or  pre- 
judice, or  interest,  or  personal  favor,  but  because  none  of 
these  things  could  come  near  enough  to  him  to  be  repelled. 
By  the  happy  constitution  of  his  nature,  there  was  no  flaw  in 
him  to  give  entrance  to  any  thing  which  could  draw  him  one 
hair's  breadth  aside  from  the  straight  course  of  truth  and  jus- 
tice, and  of  the  law,  which  in  his  mind  was  but  their  embodi- 
ment and  voice.  Of  this  good  and  great  man  there  is  as  yet 
no  adequate  memorial ;  and  it  would  require  a  strong  hand, 
and  if  not  an  equal,  at  least  a  sympathizing  mind  and  heart, 
to  construct  one  which  shall  indeed  be  adequate.  But  I  in- 
dulge the  hope  that  it  will  be  given  to  us  before  the  genera- 
tion which  knew  him  shall  pass  wholly  away.  And  you,  I  am 
sure,  will  pardon  me  for  using  this  opportunity  to  render  to 
his  cherished  memoiy  this  slight  and  evanescent  tribute.  I  do 
but  indulge  myself  in  saying  a  part  of  what  I  have  frequent 
occasion  to  say  to  the  many  students  to  whom  it  is  my  official 
duty  to  teach  the  law  of  their  country  as  well  as  I  can,  and 
therefore  to  speak  often  of  Marshall. 

"The  Chief  Justice  treated  Mr.  Wheaton  with  the  fondest 
regard,  and  this  example  would  have  had  its  influence  had  it 
been  necessary ;  but  in  fact  the  best  men  then  in  Washington 
were  on  the  most  intimate  and  confidential  terms  with  him. 
The  simple  truth  is,  that  universal  respect  was  rendered  to 
him  because  he  deserved  it.  He  was  a  gentleman  :  and 
therefore  the  same  gentleman  to  all  and  under  all  circumstan- 
ces ;  yes,  he  was  indeed  and  emphatically  a  gentleman,  and 


456         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

combined — with  no  base  admixture — all  the  elements  which 
go  to  compose  what  we  mean,  or  should  mean,  by  that  word, 
as  thoroughly  as  any  one  that  I  have  ever  known. 

"  I  did  not  meet  him  after  leaving  Washington  until  a  short 
time  before  his  death,  and  then  not  often.  I  saw  very  little 
change  in  his  manner,  for  he  appeared  to  be  as  glad  as  I  was 
to  revive  the  pleasant  recollections  of  that  distant  winter. 
But  I  have  been  told  that  after  he  went  abroad,  he  was  con- 
sidered somewhat  silent,  and  even  disposed  to  avoid  rather 
than  seek  general  society.  I  cannot  say  how  this  was  during 
those  later  years  ;  but  when  I  knew  him  in  Washington,  no 
one  more  enjoyed  society,  and  few  sought  it  more,  or  were 
more  sought  by  it.  He  was, — not  perhaps  gay, — but  eminent- 
ly cheerful ;  and  his  manner  was  characterized  by  that  forget- 
fulness  of  self,  which,  as  in  great  things,  it  forms  the  founda- 
tion for  the  highest  excellence,  so  in  the  lesser  matters  of 
social  intercourse  it  imparts  a  perpetual  charm,  and  consti- 
tutes almost  of  itself,  the  essence  of  all  true  politeness. 

There  was  with  Mr.  Wheaton,  no  watching  of  opportunity 
for  display  ;  no  indifference  and  want  of  interest  when  the 
topics  of  conversation,  or  the  parties,  or  other  circumstances, 
made  it  impossible  for  him  to  occupy  the  foreground  ;  no  skil- 
ful diversion  of  the  conversation  into  paths  which  led  to  his 
strongholds,  where  he  might  come  forth  with  peculiar  advan- 
tage. Still  less  did  he — as  in  this  country  so  many  do — play 
out  in  society  the  game  of  life,  by  using  it  only  as  a  means  of 
promoting  his  personal  or  professional  objects.  Certainly,  one 
may  sometimes  help  himself  importantly  in  this  way.  Very 
useful  acquaintances  may  thus  be  made  and  cultivated,  who 
might  be  rather  shy  if  directly  approached.    Facts  may  be 


W  H  E  A  T  ON. 


457 


learned,  and  opportunities  for  advancement  early  discovered, 
or  effectually  laid  hold  of,  by  one  who  circulates  widely  in  a 
society  like  that  in  Washington,  or  indeed  any  where.  Nor 
perhaps  should  it  be  a  ground  of  Approach  to  any  one,  that  in 
a  reasonable  way  and  to  a  reasonable  extent,  he  seeks  and  cul- 
tivates society  for  this  purpose.  But,  whatever  may  be  the 
moral  aspect  of  this  matter,  or  whatever  the  degree  in  which  con- 
duct of  this  kind  is  or  is  not  justifiable,  there  was  in  Mr.  Whea- 
ton's  demeanor  nothing  of  this  ;  nothing  of  it  in  appearance, 
because  nothing  of  it  in  fact  ;  for  one  who  is  mainly,  or  in  any 
considerable  degree  governed  by  a  purpose  of  this  kind,  must 
be  cunning  indeed,  to  hide  it  effectually ;  and  cunning  of  any 
sort,  was  a  quality  of  which  he  had  none  whatever.  Every 
body  felt  and  knew  this  :  and  therefore  every  body  met  him 
with  a  sense  of  confidence  and  repose,  which  of  itself  would  go 
far  in  making  any  person  more  acceptable  as  a  friend  or  as  a 
mere  companion,  in  a  society  of  which  the  very  surface  con- 
stantly exhibited  the  many  whirling  under  currents  of  Wash- 
ington life.  In  one  word,  there  was  in  him  nothing  of  trick  : 
but  that  constant  and  perfect  suavity  which  is  the  spontaneous 
expression  of  universal  kindness  ;  and  an  excellent  understand- 
ing, well  and  widely  cultivated,  and  always  ready  to  bring  forth 
all  its  resources,  not  to  help  himself,  but  to  help  or  gratify 
others,  and  all  others  with  whom  he  came  into  contact,  and 
all  this,  with  no  appearance  of  purpose  or  design  of  any  kind  ; 
for  it  was  but  the  natural  outpouring  of  mind  and  heart,  of 
one  who  was  open  to  the  widest  sympathy,  and  whose  interest 
in  all  persons  and  things  about  him  was  most  real  and  honest, 
because  he  loved  nothing  so  well  as  to  do  all  the  good  he  could, 
by  word  or  deed,  or  little  or  much,  to  one,  or  few,  or  many. 


458 


HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


He  was  therefore  most  popular  in  society.  But  when  we  speak 
of  Mr.  Wheaton's  social  popularity,  we  must  be  careful  to  use 
this  word  in  a  higher  than  its  common  sense  ;  and  if  I  have 
made  myself  at  all  intelligible,  I  think  you  will  understand 
both  the  cause  and  the  character  of  that  popularity. 

"  And  more  than  this  I  cannot  say.  Time  has  effaced  from 
my  memory  details  and  especial  circumstances  ;  nor  can  I 
therefore,  by  their  help,  illustrate  this  slight  sketch  of  Mr. 
Wheaton's  character  and  position,  during  those  pleasant  months 
which  he  helped  so  much  to  make  pleasant.  Of  these  par- 
ticulars, my  recollection  is  dim  enough.  But  no  lapse  of  time 
will  efface  from  my  mind  the  clear  and  distinct  recollection  of 
the  high  excellence  of  his  character,  or  the  charms  of  his  con- 
versation and  manners  ;  nor  shall  I  ever  lose  any  portion  of 
the  affection  and  respect  with  which  I  regard  his  memory. 
"  I  am,  very  sincerely, 

"  Your  friend  and  obedient  servant, 

"  Theophilus  Parsons." 

Cambridge,  May  23,  1853. 

In  1821,  Mr.  Wheaton  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Con- 
vention for  revising  the  Constitution  of  the  State  of  New- York, 
which  having  been  formed  amid  the  tumults  and  perils  of  war, 
seemed  defective  and  insufficient  to  the  wants  of  a  richer,  more 
enlightened,  and  more  numerous  society.  In  his  sittings  he 
turned  his  attention  more  particularly  to  the  organization  of  the 
tribunals.  In  1824,  he  was  appointed  by  the  New- York  Legis- 
lature a  member  of  the  commission  appointed  to  draw  up  the 
civil  and  criminal  code  of  the  State,  a  work  in  which  he  contin- 
ued to  be  engaged  until  1827.    It  has  been  remarked  that  this 


WHEATON. 


459 


was  the  first  effort  made  by  any  State  possessing  the  common 
law,  to  reduce  its  disconnected  and  diffusive  legislation  to  the 
unity  of  a  code,  so  that  his  name  is  thus  connected  with  one  of 
the  most  important  landmarks  in  the  history  of  American  law. 

It  may  easily  be  imagined,  that  a  person  of  so  serious  and 
thoughtful  a  disposition  could  not  have  failed  at  some  period 
of  his  life,  to  tarn  his  attention  to  the  important  subject  of 
religion.  While  in  college,  and  during  the  ensuing  years,  lie 
had  studied  deeply  the  wrorks  of  the  great  English  theologians, 
and  when  the  Unitarian  Church  was  established  in  New-York, 
he  united  himself  with  it. 

His  other  occupations  did  not  prevent  him  from  entering 
into  literary  pursuits.  In  1820  he  pronounced  a  discourse 
before  the  Historical  Society  of  New- York,  and  in  1824,  one 
at  the  opening  of  the  New- York  Athenaeum,  both  of  which 
are  considered  to  have  unusual  merit  ;  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
contributing  to  the  North  American  Review,  and  also  trans- 
lated the  Code  Napoleon.  Unfortunately,  this  manuscript 
and  some  other  interesting  papers  were  soon  after  destroyed  by 
fire.  In  1826  he  published  the  life  of  William  Pinkney,  whom 
he  had  known  in  Washington,  and  for  whom  he  had  the  high- 
est regard  and  admiration.  This  he  afterwards  abridged  for 
Sparks' s  American  Biography.  His  familiarity  with  the  French 
language,  laws,  and  customs,  led  to  an  intimacy  with  most  of 
the  exiles  whom  the  downfall  of  Napoleon  brought  to  this  coun- 
try. Count  Real,  the  minister  of  police  under  the  empire. 
Count  Regnault,  the  most  brilliant  orator  of  that  time,  General 
Bernard  and  Prince  Achille  Murat,  all  considered  him  as  a 
friend,  and  retained  as  long  as  they  lived  a  warm  recollection 
of  the  kind  welcome  they  had  found  at  his  house. 


460 


HOMES    OF     AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 


In  1827  he  was  appointed  by  President  Adams,  Charge 
<T  Affaires  to  Denmark,  and  charged  with  negotiations  the  object 
of  which  was  to  obtain  an  indemnity  for  the  American  vessels 
seized  during  the  last  war  between  France  and  England.  He 
embarked  in  July  for  England,  where  he  had  the  satisfaction  of 
again  seeing  the  friends  whose  kindness  had  made  his  first  visit 
to  that  country  so  pleasant,  and  also  of  meeting  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  literary  and  legal  characters  of  the  day. 
Among  the  former,  was  Dr.  Bowring,  with  whom  he  after- 
wards became  intimate,  and  who  was  indeed  one  of  the  warm- 
est friends  he  had  in  Europe. 

Although  the  first  few  months  passed  in  Copenhagen  were 
not  without  the  trials  attendant  on  a  removal  to  a  foreign 
home,  and  in  this  instance  were  still  more  overshadowed  by  the 
news  of  his  father's  death,  and  by  the  illness  and  death  of  his 
wife's  brother,  who  had  gone  with  them,  Mr.  Wheaton  soon 
became  acclimated,  formed  pleasant  acquaintances  among  his 
colleagues  and  among  the  Danes,  who  are  remarkably  kind  and 
hospitable  to  foreigners,  and  availed  himself  of  the  resources 
the  country  offered  to  one  of  his  tastes.  The  letter  to  Judge 
Story,  of  which  we  give  a  facsimile,  will  show  his  first  impres- 
sions of  Copenhagen. 

The  climate  of  Denmark  is  damp  like  that  of  England,  and 
its  verdure  quite  as  beautiful.  Copenhagen  is  prettily  situated, 
and  contains  as  many  objects  of  interest  as  any  city  of  the  size 
in  Europe.  It  has  fine  palaces,  a  military  and  a  naval  acade- 
my, admirable  hospitals,  an  extensive  public  library,  a  valuable 
collection  of  Northern  antiquities,  a  good  gallery  of  pictures, 
and  fine  public  walks.  The  vicinity  of  the  capital,  although 
level,  is  highly  cultivated,  and  affords  a  number  of  charming 


WHE  ATON. 


461 


residences.  The  most  pleasant  of  these  are  situated  on  the 
Strandvei,  a  road  which  runs  along  the  shore  of  the  Baltic  to 
the  Dyr-Hange,  a  fine  park  well  stocked  with  deer,  which  is  a 
favorite  place  of  resort  during  the  summer  season  to  the  Danes, 
who  enjoy  out-of-door  life  as  much  as  the  inhabitants  of  a 
Southern  clime.  Many  of  the  houses  which  stand  at  intervals 
along  the  pleasant  Strandvei  are  rented  by  their  proprietors  to 
foreigners.  Of  one  of  those  occupied  by  Mr.  Wheaton  and  his 
family,  we  .engrave  a  cut,  from  a  view  painted  by  an  artist  of 
the  -country.  It  stood,  and  still  stands,  at  some  distance  from 
the  road,  with  a  green  lawn  before  it ,*and  surrounded  by  lilacs, 
laburnums  and  beech-trees,  whose  white  bark  and  light  green 
leaves  give  a  peculiar  character  to  the  scenery  of  Denmark. 
From  the  windows  of  the  house  the  blue  waves  of  the  Baltic, 
studded  with  every  variety  of  sail,  may  be  seen,  and  in  clear 
weather  the  opposite  coast  of  Sweden  is  discernible.  The  road 
is  enlivened  by  the  brilliant  equipages  of  the  Royal  family  and 
nobility,  by  the  Holstein-wagen,  long  open  carriages  which  con- 
tain ten  persons,  two  only  being  seated  abreast,  and  much  used 
for  parties  of  pleasure,  and  by  the  women  from  the  neighbor- 
ing fishing  villages,  with  their  green  petticoats  and  red  bod- 
dices,  carrying  large  baskets  of  fish  to  the  city. 

At  the  time  of  Mr.  Wheaton's  arrival  in  Denmark,  Count 
Schimmelmann  occupied  the  post  of  Minister  of  Foreign  Af- 
fairs. This  nobleman  was  possessed  of  great  talents  and  worth, 
and  for  nearly  thirty  years  was  employed  in  the  service  of  his 
government.  Although  a  great  part  of  his  income  was  derived 
from  his  estates  in  the  Danish  West  Indies,  it  was  chiefly  by 
his  influence  that  the  emancipation  of  the  negroes  was  effected. 
He  was  a  generous  patron  of  art  and  science,  and  one  of  the 


462  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

earliest  friends  of  Niebuhr.  By  such  a  man  Mr.  Wheat  on 
could  not  fail  to  be  appreciated ;  and  although  the  business 
transacted  between  them  was  of  a  delicate,  and  to  the  Danish 
government,  which  had  been  greatly  impoverished  by  the  war, 
of  a  trying  nature,  these  meetings  were  always  pleasant  to 
both.  The  negotiations  were  terminated  in  1831,  by  the 
signature  of  a  convention,  by  which  the  American  government 
obtained  nearly  all  it  had  demanded. 

While  thus  engaged,  Mr.  Wheaton  had  not  neglected  the 
literary  pursuits  to  which,  in  moments  of  leisure,  he  always 
turned  with  pleasure.  He  prepared  himself  by  the  study  of 
the  languages,  literature,  and  history  of  Northern  Europe,  for 
writing  a  work  which  was  published  in  London,  in  1831,  under 
the  title  of  History  of  the  Northmen.  At  that  period,  Scan- 
dinavia was  a  new,  and  almost  untrodden  field,  but  although 
much  has  since  been  added  to  the  information  we  then  pos- 
sessed respecting  its  history  and  antiquities,  this  work  is  still 
considered  very  valuable  by  those  who  take  an  interest  in  the 
subject  to  which  it  relates.  It  was  translated  into  French  in 
1842,  and  a  new  edition  of  it  being  desired  in  this  country, 
Mr.  Wheaton  undertook  the  task  of  preparing  it,  but  did  not 
live  to  complete  it. 

In  the  course  of  these  studies  he  became  acquainted  with 
the  most  distinguished  literary  characters  of  Denmark,  such  as 
Bask,  Rafn,  Finn-Magnusen,  the  poet  Ohlenschlager,  Munter, 
Bishop  of  Zealand,  and  others.  We  must  not  omit  to  add 
Madame  Frederika  Brun,  the  sister  of  Munter,  and  herself 
a  poetess  of  celebrity,  whose  splendid  mansion  in  Copenhagen 
and  charming  country-seat  of  Fredericksdal,  were  for  many 
years  the  resort  of  the  most  distinguished  persons  in  Denmark. 


WHEAT  ON. 


4G3 


It  was  in  1835  that  he  bade  adieu  to  the  country  where  nine 
pleasant  years  had  been  passed,  and  where  his  amiable  dispo- 
sition, high  integrity  and  talents,  had  won  him  many  friends. 
For  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  our  country  had  had  no 
representative  in  Prussia ;  but  our  increased  trade  with  Ger- 
many rendering  it  important  that  we  should  renew  our  relations 
with  that  country,  he  was  appointed  by  President  Jackson, 
Minister  Kesident  to  the  court  of  Prussia.  On  his  arrival  in 
Berlin,  his  new  colleagues  took  pleasure  in  pointing  out  to  him 
the  house  which  had  been  the  residence  of  his  predecessor, 
J ohn  Quincy  Adams,  so  long  before. 

Mr.  Ancillon,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  was  the 
descendant  of  a  Huguenot  family,  who,  after  the  revocation  of 
the  Edict  of  Nantes,  sought  an  asylum  in  Germany,  and  is 
even  better  known  as  a  philosophical  writer  and  historian,  than 
as  a  statesman.  To  him  Mr.  Wheat  on  presented  his  credentials, 
and  as  the  King,  Frederick  William  III.,  and  his  ministers, 
soon  after  left  Berlin,  according  to  custom,  for  the  summer 
months,  he  devoted  the  interval  to  visiting  the  Rhenish  provin- 
ces, in  order  to  examine  their  resources  and  report  to  Govern- 
ment concerning  them.  During  the  ensuing  summers  he  made 
excursions  into  different  parts  of  Germany  with  the  same  object. 
In  his  private  letters,  he  speaks  with  delight  of  the  beauty  and 
fertility  of  the  country,  to  which  historical  associations  gave 
additional  charm  in  his  eyes.  In  a  dispatch,  he  says  :  "  Having 
diligently  explored  every  state  and  every  province,  compre- 
hended in  the  Customs- Association,  with  the  view  of  studying 
their  economical  resources,  I  have  been  forcibly  struck  with  the 
vast  variety  and  rich  productions  with  which  Heaven  has  en- 
dowed this  beautiful  and  highly  favored  land.    Its  fields  teem 


464  HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

with  luxuriant  harvests  of  grain  and  fruit,  the  hillsides  are  clad 
with  vineyards  yielding  the  most  exquisite  wines,  the  moun- 
tains contain  inexhaustible  treasures  of  useful  minerals,  whilst 
the  valleys  are  filled  with  health-giving  fountains  of  salubrious 
waters.  When  we  add  to  these  productions  of  nature  and 
of  agricultural  labor,  the  vast  variety  of  useful  and  ornamental 
fabrics,  furnished  by  the  persevering  and  patient  industry  of 
the  German  people,  and  their  extensive  consumption  of  the 
peculiar  staple  productions  of  the  New  World,  we  must  be  con- 
vinced of  the  great  and  increasing  importance  of  the  constituent 
elements  of  German  commerce,  of  the  valuable  exchange  it 
offers  to  the  trade  of  other  countries,  and  of  the  benefits  which 
may  be  derived  to  our  own  country,  from  cultivating  and  ex- 
tending the  commercial  relations  between  the  United  States 
and  Germany." 

In  1837,  Mr.  Wheaton  was  raised  by  President  Van  Buren 
to  the  rank  of  Minister  Plenipotentiary  and  Envoy  Extraordi- 
nary ;  and  we  cannot  forbear  remarking,  that  after  the  oppo- 
sition which — although  never  a  violent  party  man — he  had  in 
previous  years  shown  Mr.  Van  Buren,  it  is  most  honorable  to 
the  latter,  that  no  feeling  of  rancor  or  pique,  withheld  him 
from  making  a  nomination  which  he  felt  the  public  services  of 
his  former  opponent  to  deserve. 

In  1836,  he  published,  in  England  and  in  the  United 
States,  his  cc  Elements  of  International  Law,"  and  in  1846  re- 
published it  in  this  country  with  numerous  additions.  In  1841 
he  wrote  in  French,  ■  Histoire  du  Progres  clu  Droit  des  Gens 
depuis  la  paix  de  Westphalie,"  which  obtained  a  mention 
honorable  from  the  French  Institute.  This  work  was  published 
in  French  at  Leipsic,  1844,  and  afterwards  in  New- York,  un- 


WHEATON. 


465 


der  the  title  of  "  History  of  the  Law  of  Nations."  Competent 
judges  have  spoken  of  it  as  the  best  work  of  the  kind  ever 
written  ;  Mr.  Keddie  and  Mr.  Manning  in  Great  Britain,  Baron 
Gagern  in  Germany,  and  the  enlightened  and  accomplished 
Minister  of  the  King  of  Sardinia,  Marquis  d'Azeglio,  have  all 
awarded  high  praise  to  it.  By  diplomatists,  it  is  considered 
an  invaluable  book  of  reference  ;  by  British  statesmen,  it  has 
several  times  been  quoted  in  Parliament,  and  there  can  be  no 
exaggeration  in  saying,  that  it  has  entitled  the  author  to  a 
lasting  reputation  in  the  Old  World. 

In  1840,  Mr.  Wheaton  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  eldest 
son,  a  lad  of  great  promise,  who  died  after  a  few  days'  illness 
in  Paris,  where  he  was  at  school.  From  that  moment,  all  the 
father's  hopes  centred  in  Robert,  his  only  remaining  son.  Of 
the  latter,  this  is  not  the  place  to  speak  fully  ;  but  we  cannot 
forbear  to  say,  that  he  lived  long  enough  to  realize  the  fondest 
anticipations  of  his  parents,  and  that  his  early  death,  at  the 
age  of  twenty-five  years,  will  ever  be  a  source  of  regret  to  all 
who  knew  him.  He  died  on  the  9th  of  October,  1851,  only 
three  years  after  his  father. 

In  1843,  he  was  made  a  corresponding  member  of  the 
French  Institute,  in  the  section  of  Moral  and  Political  Sciences. 
This  nomination  increased  the  pleasure  he  felt  in  visiting  Paris, 
which  he  did,  whenever  his  official  duties  would  permit.  In 
the  literary  and  political  circles  of  that  great  capital,  he  f  ound 
the  stimulus  which  every  mind  like  his  requires,  and  of  which 
he  felt  the  want  in  Berlin,  where  men  of  letters  and  savans 
do  not  mix  in  the  court-circles,  which  his  official  position  com- 
pelled him  frequently  to  attend.  He  knew  most  of  the  eminent 
statesmen  and  politicians  of  France  ;  he  was  particularly  well 

80 


466  HOMES    OF  AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

acquainted  with  M.  Guizot,  for  whose  character  and  talents 
he  entertained  the  highest  respect,  and  with  M.  Thiers,  the 
charm  of  whose  conversation  he  admired  no  less  than  his  works. 
He  also  enjoyed  the  opportunity  he  had  in  Paris  of  meeting 
his  countrymen,  of  whom  comparatively  few  visited  Berlin. 
Nor  did  he  neglect  when  there,  to  transmit  to  Government 
such  information  respecting  the  general  state  of  Europe,  as 
his  long  residence  abroad,  and  his  relations  with  the  leading 
men  in  several  of  its  countries,  enabled  him  to  collect.  In  the 
ten  years  during  which  his  mission  to  Berlin  lasted,  scarcely  a 
week  elapsed  without  his  addressing  a  dispatch  to  Government. 
These  dispatches  are  extremely  interesting,  both  from  the  va- 
riety and  extent  of  information  they  contain  concerning  the 
political  and  commercial  state  of  Prussia,  and  the  picture  they 
present  of  Europe  and  of  European  governments,  and,  if  ever 
published,  will  form  a  valuable  addition  to  the  history  of 
American  and  European  diplomacy. 

In  many  respects,  Mr.  Wheaton  was  peculiarly  well  qualified 
for  diplomatic  life.  His  knowledge  of  international  law,  the 
soundness  of  his  judgment,  the  calmness  and  impartiality  with 
which  he  could  look  at  the  different  sides  of  a  question,  his 
gentle  and  forbearing  disposition,  his  amiable  and  conciliating 
manners,  were  all  in  his  favor.  To  these  advantages,  he  added 
the  purest  integrity,  and  the  highest  sense  of  the  duties  and 
responsibilities  attached  to  the  profession  he  so  long  followed. 
In  the  speech  made  at  the  public  dinner  offered  him  in  New- 
York,  on  his  return  to  his  native  country  after  an  absence  of 
twenty  years,  he  said,  and  this  was  the  true  expression  of  his 
feelings  on  the  subject  :  "  You  will  excuse  me  for  remarking 
that  the  mission  of  a  diplomatic  agent  is,  or  ought  to  be,  a 


WHEATON. 


467 


mission  of  peace  and  conciliation  ;  and  that  nothing  can  he 
further  removed  from  its  true  nature  and  dignity,  than  intrigue, 
craft,  and  duplicity  ;  qualities  too  often,  hut  in  my  opinion,  er- 
roneously, attributed  to  the  diplomatic  character.  At  least,  it 
may  I  believe  be  confidently  asserted,  that  the  ablest  public  min- 
isters, and  those  who  have  most  effectually  advanced  the  honor 
and  interest  of  their  country,  have  been  those  who  were  distin- 
guished for  frankness,  directness,  and  a  strict  regard  to  truth." 

The  amount  of  business  which  devolved  on  him  during  hit 
mission  to  Berlin,  independent  of  the  negotiations  for  a  com- 
mercial treaty  with  the  German  Customs-Union  or  Zollverein, 
can  hardly  be  estimated  by  reading  his  dispatches  only.  Not 
a  week  elapsed  without  his  receiving  letters  from  different  parts 
of  Germany  and  the  United  States,  asking  for  advice  with  re- 
gard to  emigration,  or  to  the  disposition  of  property  left  by 
friends  in  America  or  in  Germany,  and  all  requiring  immedi- 
ate attention.  But  notwithstanding  these  demands  upon  his 
time,  he  did  not  neglect  the  pursuits  of  literature.  In  1838 
he  published,  jointly  with  Dr.  Crichton,  the  volumes  entitled 
"  Scandinavia/'  which  form  a  portion  of  the  Edinburgh  Family 
Library  ;  and  in  1842,  and  the  succeeding  years,  wrote  a 
number  of  interesting  letters  addressed  to  the  National  Insti- 
tute at  Washington,  which  were  published  in  the  columns  of 
the  National  Intelligencer. 

In  1844,  he  was  named  Member  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences 
at  Berlin,  and  we  must  not  omit  to  mention,  that  he  was  the 
only  foreign  diplomat  to  whom  the  honor  had  then  been  award- 
ed. With  Kaumer  and  Kanke,  with  Ritter,  the  celebrated 
geographer,  Encke,  the  astronomer,  he  was  of  course  acquaint- 
ed ;  Savigny,  Gans,  and  Eichorn,  he  knew  well  ;  and  with 


468         HOMES    OF    AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

Alexander  von  Humboldt  he  was  on  the  most  friendly  and 
familiar  terms.  Count  Raczynski,  whose  work  on  "  Modern 
Art/'  has  made  his  name  known  in  this  country,  and  whose 
fine  gallery  is  to  amateurs  of  painting  one  of  the  chief  objects 
of  interest  in  Berlin,  was  also  his  intimate  friend.  With 
Bunsen,  one  of  the  most  agreeable  as  well  as  intellectual  men 
in  Germany,  whose  diplomatic  duties  kept  him  absent  from 
Berlin,  he  passed  many  delightful  hours  in  Switzerland,  and 
in  London.  All  his  colleagues  in  Berlin  met  him  on  the  most 
friendly  terms  ;  but  the  Russian,  French  and  English  ministers 
were  those  whose  company  he  most  enjoyed,  and  who  perhaps 
entertained  for  him  the  most  cordial  friendship.  The  two  latter 
gave  him  their  entire  cofidence,  often  showing  him  their  dis- 
patches, and  freely  discussing  with  him  the  interests  of  their 
respective  governments. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1844,  that  the  negotiations  with 
the  Zollverein,  with  which  Mr.  Wheaton  had  been  charged, 
and  winch  the  various  interests  of  the  nineteen  different  states 
which  it  then  included,  had  protracted,  drew  to  a  close.  On 
the  25th  of  March  he  signed  a  convention  with  Baron  Bulow, 
the  Prussian  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  of  whose  enlightened 
and  liberal  views  he  always  spoke  in  high  terms.  This  treaty, 
to  the  accomplishment  of  which  he  had  devoted  all  his  energies 
during  several  years,  and  which  he  fondly,  hoped  would  prove 
satisfactory  to  Government  and  the  country,  was  rejected  by 
the  Senate.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that  he  felt  this 
disappointment  deeply. 

In  1846,  he  was  recalled  by  President  Polk,  and  on  the 
22d  July  had  his  farewell  audience  of  the  King  of  Prussia, 
by  whom  he  had  always  been  treated  with  marked  distinction 


W  H  E  A  T  ON. 


460 


and  courtesy.  He  went  to  Paris  to  pass  the  ensuing  winter, 
during  which  he  read  to  the  Academy  of  Sciences  a  paper  on 
the  Schleswig-Holstein  question,  which  is  still  unpublished 
In  May,  1847,  he  returned  to  his  native  land.  A  public  din- 
ner, to  which  we  have  already  alluded,  was  given  him  in 
New- York,  where  so  much  of  his  early  life  had  been  spent, 
and  where  he  had  first  distinguished  himself ;  a  dinner  was 
also  offered  him  in  Philadelphia,  but  this,  circumstances  com- 
pelled him  to  decline.  The  city  of  Providence  requested  him 
to  sit  for  his  portrait,  to  be  placed  in  the  hall  of  the  City 
Council,  "  as  a  memorial  of  one  who  shed  so  much  honor  on  the 
place  of  his  nativity/''  It  is  interesting  to  mark  the  contrast 
between  this  portrait,  which  was  painted  by  Healy,  and  one 
painted  by  Jarvis  nearly  thirty  years  before.  Though  the 
countenance  has  lost  something  of  the  animation  of  youth,  and 
the  eyes  have  no  longer  the  fire  which  flashes  from  the  portrait 
of  Jarvis,  the  head  has  gained  in  intellectual  expression,  and 
the  brow  wears  that  air  of  thoughtful  repose,  the  mouth  that 
pleasant  smile,  familiar  to  those  who  knew  him  in  his  later 
years. 

In  September,  1847,  he  delivered  an  address  in  Providence, 
before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society,  the  subject  of  which  was 
the  Progress  and  Prospects  of  Germany.  This  was  the  last 
public  occasion  on  which  his  voice  was  heard.  The  chair  of 
International  Law  at  Harvard  University,  to  which  he  had 
been  called,  on  his  return  home,  he  never  lived  to  fill.  His 
health  gradually  failed,  and  on  the  11th  of  March,  1848,  he 
breathed  his  last. 


THE  END. 


